


Take It On The Run

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Take It On The Run [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Police, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Police Officer Dean Winchester, Smut, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:04:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: While serving lunch to a group of local officers at a diner, the reader catches the eye of a new man sitting with them. Things don’t start off well and get even worse when the man comes to the reader’s home that evening, introducing himself as Detective Dean Winchester and asking questions about a man in a photo. Full of twists and turns, action and a family full of secrets, the reader has to figure out how to survive and Dean Winchester might end up being her only chance. Or her biggest weakness…





	1. Chapter 1

“Howdy boys,” you said as your regulars slid into their same old booth for lunch. Sam Winchester had been coming to the diner across the street from the station everyday for lunch for the past five or so years. Without fail, he always gave you a big smile and ordered a salad, dressing on the side.

His partner had a few years on him, Castiel Novak, one of the more senior officers in your small town and very likely on his way to retirement soon. Cas never ordered much more than half a sandwich but if he did, it was normally to eat a basket or three of french fries.

Jack Kline started coming to lunch with the two of them about four months back. You knew Sam was going to be his new partner and that Cas was overseeing their transfer as Sam took on the role of training his fresh faced partner. The fact Cas was his uncle probably accounted for the look of uncertainty during Jack’s first week, Sam doing his best to get into mentor mode. Jack was as friendly as a puppy dog though and was a fast friend to practically everyone at the diner. Sam and Cas groaned occasionally at how their younger partner could eat pretty much every greasy thing on the menu and yet somehow remain a slim guy.

Today though, there was another man with them. You knew every officer in town, all eight locals including the chief but this guy was in a suit, a bit stiff and glancing around at the diner with a blank face.

“Hi sweetheart, what can I get you?” you asked him, the man looking you up and down. He opened his mouth, a strange look on his face before he composed himself.

“Burger. Fries. A beer,” he said, turning his head away. You glanced at the clock on the wall, not even noon yet, hearing him jump and mutter under his breath. “Please.”

“Excuse him. He had a long drive in,” said Sam, the new guy crossing his arms at him, biting back a rude comment if you had to guess.

“I’ll be back with your usuals and the burger in a few minutes,” you said, jotting the man’s order down.

By the time you returned, the man in the suit had a clenched jaw and Sam was waving his hands around like he was ready to throttle him.

“Here’s your food boys,” you said, sliding the plates over, the new man holding up a finger.

“Y/N, right?” he asked, glancing at your name tag, forcing a smile on his face. “Y/N, would you mind coming to the station when you get done with your shift? I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Why?” you asked, the man wiping the smile clean off his face, replacing it with annoyed eyes.

“Be at the station,” he said, waving you off. You popped out a hip, Cas running a hand over his face, the other two shaking their heads. “You can go now.”

“I don’t know who are you but around here we have something called manners. Do not-”

“I’m the detective that’s gonna be all over your ass if you aren’t at the station when I asked, understand?” he said with a smirk. “Don’t make me have to come get you.”

“Whatever.”

 

You were in the middle of a bowl of popcorn, binging your new show after dinner when someone decided to forgo your doorbell for pounding a fist against the solid wood. You hopped up and went to the window, a black car parked out front.

“Police! Open up!” shouted a voice along with the pounding. You pouted and grabbed a bat from the closet, carefully opening the door and nearly getting a face full of knuckles. The detective from the diner was standing there, looking pissed as hell and cocking his head down at you. “Are you stupid or something? I told you to come to the station. You got off work three hours ago.”

“I forgot,” you said honestly, the man raising an eyebrow. “I did! It was a long shift.”

“Fine. Grab a coat and let’s go,” he said, motioning you to come with him.

“It’s already past nine and you won’t even tell me what this is about so can it wait until the morning? I’m pretty tired,” you said, forcing a smile on your face, the guy not buying it for a second.

“No, it can’t,” he said, pointing at your coat. “Let’s go.”

“Well can’t you talk to me here?” you asked, the detective rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said, pushing open your door and walking inside. You closed up behind him, the man smirking at what was in your hand. “A baseball bat? Really?”

“Like a cop doesn’t answer the door at night with a gun tucked away in his pants?” you asked. He shrugged, wandering into your living room. You set the bat down, looking him over.

He was in a suit and wool coat, a holster on his belt hidden just out of view judging by the bulge. He had the look of a detective but there was something familiar about him you couldn’t shake away.

“Can I get you something to drink, detective…?” you asked, the man shaking his head.

“Winchester. Dean Winchester,” he said.

“Winchester. Are you related to Sam?” you asked.

“He’s my baby brother,” said Dean, looking at the floor, moving over to your couch. “The faster we do this, the faster I’m out of here.”

“So what’s going on?” you asked, taking a seat across from him. Dean pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it and handing it to you. There was a man dressed in black front and center in the picture taken from a security camera from the looks of it. He had a gun out, in a front entrance to a home if you had to guess.

“Do you recognize that man?” asked Dean.

“Sorry, no,” you said, handing the paper back to him. Dean squinted his eyes and held it out.

“Look again,” he said.

“I’m telling you I don’t know who-“

“Look at the photo again,” he said. You couldn’t hide your eye roll, glancing at the grainy photo from a few months back one more time. There was absolutely nothing familiar about him and Dean was frankly starting to piss you off. You glanced at the rest of the image, spotting another figure in the background and swallowing hard. “Well if you don’t recognize him, I sure as hell hope you recognize a picture of yourself. Nice gun by the way. Where’d you get it?”

“That’s not…this is some misunderstanding,” you said, Dean smiling as you shoved the paper back over and stood up. “That’s not me.”

“Of course it’s not,” he said, grabbing your wrist and spinning you around. You felt cold metal snap around your wrists before you could even open your mouth. “I don’t have to read you your rights do I? Anyone smart enough to hide their tracks like that probably already knows them.”

“Dean, I swear that’s not me,” you said, Dean turning off your TV before his hand was on your arm, moving you to your front door.

“Uh huh,” he said, kicking a pair of slippers towards your feet. “Let’s get-”

“The picture. It’s time stamped right? I bet I have an alibi,” you said, Dean scoffing with a dark laugh.

“You have an alibi for the night of December 3rd? I’m the freaking easter bunny while we’re at it,” he said.

“I was in the hospital,” you said. “I had to get my appendix out. I was in surgery.”

“I’ve heard some interesting fake covers before but that one takes the cake,” he said. “Shoes. Now.”

“Call the hospital. Mercy Grace. I swear I’m not lying,” you said. Dean twitched up his lip, pulling you over to your kitchen and sitting you down in a chair. He undid one of the cuffs and latched it to the post.

“Don’t move,” he said, pulling out his phone and walking down a hall.

 

Ten minutes later he came back, shaking his head and releasing you from the cuffs.

“You were knocked out, on a table with a doctor playing operation on your insides with at least twelve different eye witnesses. Yet somehow, that is your face on that screen,” said Dean, sitting down at your table, running his hand over his face. “How?”

“Whatever’s going on, it’s not me,” you said. Dean took a deep breath, glancing away.

“Sorry for being a dick at the diner. I’ve been working this case for months and then when I come visit my little brother, bam, the chick I’m looking for is asking me what I want to eat. I got a little…” he said. “Excited.”

“Just don’t do it again,” you said, Dean nodding his head, lifting it with a embarrassed look in his eye.

“I’ll take that drink now if you’re still offering,” he said.

“You just arrested me and now you think I’m in a hospitable mood?” you asked, deciding a drink was a pretty good idea actually.

“I arrested you for like two minutes. It wasn’t even official,” he said with a shrug and a tiny smirk.

“You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood, Winchester,” you said, walking to your fridge and pulling out a pair of beers. The hard features of his face were softer when you returned, a small notebook out in front of him he was tapping his pen against.

“You don’t have an identical twin your parents kept hidden away from the world, right? An eerily similar looking cousin? Nothing?” he asked.

“No cousins. No twin. Only child. Just me,” you said, Dean scribbling something down. “What?”

“The way I see it, there’s two options. Well, three but that one has us both going crazy so I don’t think that one’s likely,” he said. He took a long drawl from his beer, smirking when he saw you crack a smile.

“Let me see your badge,” you said, holding out a hand.

“Why?” asked Dean, reaching down to his back pocket and pulling out a leather badge, flipping it open to you.

“For one, I want to make sure you really are a cop and not Sam’s delusional brother,” you said with a smirk, Dean scoffing.

“The access to your medical records didn’t give it away?” he teased, sporting a large smile.

“And second…I want to know who I’m dealing with,” you said.

“Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I love long walks on the beach…you want me to keep going with this?” asked Dean, far more playful now.

“Alright, Junior Detective Dean Winchester,” you said, reading over his badge with a smile. “Lawrence County police department. Lawrence? Middle of nowhere Kansas? What big crimes are you solving down there? Who’s been tipping cattle in the fields?”

“Hey, there was a murder once,” said Dean, stealing his badge back. “In ‘53.”

“You weren’t even born,” you said. “Or else you look extremely good for your age.”

“I always look good for my age. You’re right, we normally don’t see this kind of thing down there ever. This is my first big case which is why I want to find these two and fast,” said Dean. “They’re dangerous and we don’t want them on the street anymore.”

“What are these two options you mentioned then?” you asked. “The girl in the photo, I mean.”

“Either there is someone very, very, very similar looking to you out there or…you have a twin you don’t know about,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and waited for the punchline but it didn’t come.

“Right. I have an evil twin,” you said, Dean rolling his eyes. “I told you. I’m an only-”

“Yeah, I know what you said. But odds are better your parents lied to you than you found your doppelganger,” said Dean.

“My dad,” you said, fiddling with the beer in your hands. “My dad raised me. My mom died giving birth.”

“Do you have a computer?” he asked. You went to your bedroom, bringing it back to him where Dean had a few pages of notes jotted down now. “What are you doing?”

“Looking up a death certificate,” he said, going to a database login, typing away for a few seconds before lifting his head. He glanced you over for a moment before he typed some more, running his hand over his face. “You’re having one hell of day.”

“What?” you asked, Dean spinning the computer around, an image of your mother, much older looking than the photos you’d seen, staring back.

“Heather Greene renewed her license six months ago, Y/N,” said Dean, clicking on another page, a set of birth certificates appearing. “She gave birth to a baby girl October 27th 11:58pm…and another baby girl October 28th 12:01am.”

You took a seat, staring at the screen, only spotting your father’s signature on your certificate, only your mother’s on Emily’s, your apparent older sister.

“For some reason, they each took custody of only one child. The only reason yours is even in here under your mother’s file is because it was twins and they stapled them together. Her name doesn’t appear on yours. There’s no marriage certificate for either of your parents too. I don’t think…” said Dean, cutting himself off as he caught your face. “You need another drink.”

“Understatement of the century, dude.”

 

“I have a sister. A twin sister,” you said a while later, two beers down and Dean working away at your kitchen table, asking you random questions about your father and growing up.

“Emily Greene. Sole child of Heather Greene and from the pictures, that’s our girl. Fuck, she has a record going back to age eight,” said Dean, your head snapping up. You stood up to glance over his shoulder, Dean turning the screen away. “You really shouldn’t be looking at this.”

“I’m sorry. Is your evil twin going around committing crimes with your face?” you asked. Dean sighed and turned the screen back, everything blocked until she was 18 and assault with a deadly weapon stood out. “Geez, what did this girl…attempted murder?”

“I guess this makes you the good one,” said Dean, opening the most recent file from a few months back. “Oh, that’s just perfect.”

“What is?” you asked, Dean pointing at a few lines on a report. “Lost asset. What’s that mean?”

“It’s nice for somehow she escaped from police custody with three armed troopers covering her. This ain’t no average criminal,” said Dean. He ran his hand through his hair, writing another note down. You pulled out your phone, typing away as Dean tapped his fingers against your table.

“Derek Evans,” you said, sliding over your phone, Dean glancing down at it.

“That’s the guy from the robbery,” said Dean, typing into his computer. “How’d…”

“Facebook. Chick shouldn’t have her privacy settings set so shitty,” you said, Dean smiling.

“No she shouldn’t. I got his file. Derek Evans. 31. Rap sheet a mile long but mostly minor stuff until about a year ago. I’m guessing that’s when he met up with Emily. Regular old Bonnie and Clyde they are,” said Dean, leaning back in his chair. “Shit. I thought my family had it’s issues.”

“Emily and Derek…do you think they know about me?” you asked. The thought crossed Dean’s mind for the first time, his lips pursing.

“It’s unlikely but we don’t know what your mother told Emily. She’d have no reason to suspect she was anything other than an only child just like you unless someone said otherwise. You’re an average person, not famous or well known. She probably doesn’t know you exist,” said Dean, shutting your computer.

“Then why don’t you sound happy,” you said.

“…There’s a chance she does know. She and Derek are very dangerous people. It’s possible she could come looking for you,” said Dean. “We just don’t know right now.”

“Why would they come to me?” you asked, Dean scrunching up his face. “Spit it out.”

“Let me look into her juvie record, see if I can get it unsealed. I have a bad feeling about this chick,” said Dean. He stood up with a stretch, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair, shoving his notes back in his pocket. He carried the empty beer bottles over to your sink, tapping his fingers against the counter and staring outside your back window into the night. “How well do you know Sam?”

“Sam? We’re friends. He eats at the diner everyday for lunch. We hangout on the weekends or after work. I know Cas and Jack pretty well too,” you said, Dean nodding his head.

“So you’re good friends,” said Dean, turning around.

“Yeah. Why?” you asked.

“I’m crashing at Sam’s while I visit him for a few days,” said Dean, crossing his arms, checking out the front windows from where he stood. “I think it might be a good idea for you spend the night there too.”

“Uh, no,” you said. The muscles in Dean’s jaw tightened for a moment, relaxing when he took a breath. “I’m making another bowl of popcorn, going back to my couch and finishing my show before I go to bed.”

“You can do all that at Sam’s,” said Dean. “I promise. Come over to his place tonight. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Am I in danger, Dean?” you asked. Dean took a deep breath, holding up his hands.

“Honestly, I have no idea. I don’t have any real cause to give you police protection let alone the fact I don’t even have jurisdiction here. You should be perfectly fine but I have a bad feeling is all and I think it’d be better if you stayed over at Sam’s tonight with us,” said Dean. “I don’t think my gut’s wrong on this.”

“An hour ago you thought I was the chick in the photo. Your gut feelings aren’t always right, Dean,” you said.

“Y/N,” said Dean, stepping over until you held up a hand.

“Goodnight, Dean,” you said, standing up and waving towards the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around this week. We can grab a drink or something but for now, I really just think you’re overreacting. I appreciate your concern but I think you should head home to Sam.”

“If anything happens or you get scared, give me a call,” he said, setting his card down on your counter. “Anything.”

“Drive safe,” you said, Dean pausing by your front door, slipping into his coat, his face in a scowl. “Dean. I’m fine.”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything out about what Emily’s up to,” he said, walking out, the rumble of his car’s engine echoing soon after. “Stay safe, Y/N.”

 

Your fist hurt like hell and you were pretty damn sure you were this close to breaking Sam’s front door in two when it suddenly swung open.

“What!” growled Sam, floppy bed head hair everywhere, a gun in his hand, Dean sporting a similar look a few feet behind him. Your panting prevented you from speaking just yet, Sam yanking you inside the dark house, Dean wide eyed.

“She’s bleeding,” said Dean, grabbing your wrists, turning them over to reveal your cut up arms. “What happened?”

“Her feet too,” said Sam, Dean glancing down to see the bare things covered in cuts as you tried to keep your weight off them. Dean scooped you up, carrying you into Sam’s kitchen and setting you down on the counter. He checked you over, a small cut on your head making him grimace. “Y/N.”

“She’s insane,” you said when you finally felt like you could breathe again. Dean cocked his head, Sam completely lost from the look on his face. “Emily. The one from the picture. She found me and she is out of her mind.”

“Here, patch her up,” said Sam, moving around handing Dean a first aid kit. “Who the fuck is this Emily?”

“Evil twin,” you and Dean said, Sam raising an eyebrow.

“You have an evil twin?” asked Sam. “That’s…what?”

“The robbery case I’m working. It’s a long story we can explain later. These cuts don’t look too deep, sweetheart. You’re okay,” said Dean, starting with your head, tucking your hair behind your ear to make room to work. “Tell us what happened.”

“Okay. You left and I finished my show, went to sleep around eleven thirty. Around two I woke up to use the bathroom and I thought I heard someone. I barely saw her standing there before she was on me. She had a knife or blade in her hand the next thing I knew, she was carving at the air and I was getting my ass thrown around. She…there’s something seriously wrong with that girl. She tried to kill me. She said…” you cut yourself off, forgetting about all of the crap going on in your head for a minute to focus on what she’d said. “We need to leave right now.”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re safe here,” said Dean, grabbing your shoulders when you hopped onto the floor.

“No idiot. It wasn’t me she came here for, not at first.  _It was you_ ,” you said, Dean scrunching up his face.

“Me?” asked Dean, Sam’s hands suddenly fisting in both your shirts, ripping you down onto the floor hard. A shot rang out overheard, straight through the kitchen window where Dean had been.

“Nice reflexes, Sammy,” said Dean with a hard swallow, Sam sitting up against the cupboards, his gun out as he looked around. “That sounded like a sniper rifle.”

“I’m sorry. I just ran out of there and Sam doesn’t live that far,” you said, Sam shaking his head that it wasn’t your fault. “I didn’t think about her following me.”

“I think she was coming here either way,” said Dean, drawing his own weapon, tucking you up against his side. “I don’t think we would have had much a shot without your warning.”

“How do we get out of here?” you asked, both guys looking around.

“Was Derek with her?” asked Dean. You shook your head, Dean biting his bottom lip. “If it’s just her out there, we might be able to make a run for the car.”

“Y/N can’t run,” said Sam, pointing to your shredded feet. “Adrenaline’s the only thing that got her this far.”

“We could wait for backup,” you said, Dean shaking his head.

“No offense to your fellow officers, Sam, but she’d pick ‘em off like that,” said Dean, poking his head around the cupboards. “Where’s your phone, Sammy? I don’t think I remembered to charge mine.”

“I left it in my room,” said Sam. “Y/N?”

“It’s at my house,” you said. Dean nodded and slid you over to Sam.

“Watch her. Keep her safe,” said Dean, crawling away from the kitchen, Sam grabbing his boxers and earning a growl. “Dude.”

“The bed is right next to a window. If she’s got any special toys out there, she’ll see you coming,” said Sam, Dean’s face blank.

“I’m betting she does,” said Dean, swiping Sam’s hand away. “You get Y/N into Baby while she’s distracted with me. The keys are right on the counter. Be careful.”

“Dean, don’t-” said Sam, Dean ducking away before Sam could stop him again. “Dean!”

“He’s not serious is he?” you asked. Sam was muttering under his breath before he reached a hand up to grab Dean’s keys from the counter. “Sam.”

“Keep your head down,” said Sam, crawling over with you to the front door, unlocking it and cracking it open an inch. “Dammit, Dean.”

“Go get him,” you said. “I can get to the car on my own.”

“Y/N, no way,” said Sam.

“Give your brother cover. I can drag myself the ten feet to the car,” you said, holding out your hand for the keys.

“I’m a cop. You’re a civilian. I can’t do that,” said Sam. “I have to stay with you. He’ll be fine. He’s fast.”

“I sure as hell hope he has a plan,” you said, a shot ringing out and glass shattering prompting the two you to your feet. Sam shoved you into the passenger seat with your head down, turning the engine on as more shots sounded off.

“Where the hell is he?” barked Sam, the shots breaking off, Sam slamming his head down as one of the windows in the backseat shattered. “We need to leave.”

The roof of the car sounded like it just got hit by a bomb as Sam put his hands on the wheel, a thud and a shadow rolling off the side and jumping into the backseat.

“Drive,” Dean groaned, Sam pulling out and gunning it out of the neighborhood, your heads only raising up when you were a few streets away.

Dean looked in one piece in the backseat, a gash on his palm and a few bruises popping up appearing to be the worst of it.

“Did you jump out of a window?” you asked, Dean nodding.

“You don’t think I hurt the car, do you?” asked Dean, Sam chuckling. “Did that bitch shoot my windows? She better not have messed up the paint job.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” said Sam with a smile. “You couldn’t have told us about your grand plan?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” said Dean, sitting upright and whining. “Damn it, I got blood on the seat. That’s going to be a nightmare to get out.”

“We have to work on your priorities dude,” you said, Dean leaning forward with a smirk.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” said Dean.

“Where’s the phone?” asked Sam, holding out his hand for it.

“Uh, I sort of…actually good news. You’re due for an upgrade now, Sammy,” said Dean, Sam dropping his head.

“I just bought that phone,” groaned Sam.

“You should work on your priorities too, Sam,” you said, Dean laughing to himself.

“I’m sure somebody will have called it in for us,” said Sam. “You so owe me a new phone, Dean.”

“The thanks I get for saving your life…” said Dean, shaking his head back and forth.

A few minutes later you were on Sam’s back, being carried into the station while Dean limped inside right on your tail. The night clerk raised an eyebrow but waved you back.

“Let me guess. You three wandering in, covered in bloody pajamas, has something to do with all the calls of gunfire in the neighborhood we’ve gotten in the past half hour?” asked Mike.

“Nothing gets past you,” said Dean, Mike twitching up his lip. “Y/N and I need to get patched up. Oh and if you see someone that looks exactly like Y/N, don’t let them in the building.”

“What?” asked Mike, Sam heading through the doors into the back of the station, plopping you down in an office on a couch.

“What the hell is going on Winchester?” said the chief a few minutes later, half dressed from the looks of it as he wandered in from down the hall. “Half the town is calling my house saying it sounds like a war zone out there.”

“It sort of is,” said Sam, holding up a finger, pointing at you and Dean, finding his way into a chair with a breath of relief. “Can we get Dr. Robinson in? They’re both hurt. Dean took a hard fall.”

“Are you the dumbass that jumped out a window?” asked the chief, crossing his arms.

“I improvised,” said Dean, holding onto his shoulder but shaking his head. “I’m fine, Sam. Somebody just needs to pop my shoulder back in and I’m good to go.”

“I already sent patrol 2 and 4 over to your place, Sam,” said the chief. “From the looks of it, somebody better swing by Y/N’s too.”

“Can I get a bandage in the meantime? My arms are still bleeding,” you said, the aching pain of your injuries rising to the surface.

“It needs stitches. She had a cut on her head too,” said Dean, sporting a few of his own along his arms and legs. “Get that doctor in here for her.”

“Once you three are patched up,” said the chief, picking up his phone off his desk, punching a number in, “I want a debrief on what exactly the hell is going on around here.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chief has some questions for the Winchesters and the reader after what happened last night…

“Huh,” said Jack. He was bringing you a cup of coffee at his desk somewhere around dawn, Dean and Sam exchanging heated words with the chief in his office from the sounds of it. “That explains why I thought I saw you twice yesterday in two very different outfits.”

“Yeah. This is…” you said, the chief’s door opening, his finger beckoning you inside. Jack helped you keep most of the weight off your feet, not that it was bothering you a lot now, the chief ushering him out once you’d taken a seat inside.

“I’m having a hard time understanding something, Y/N,” said the chief, leaning back against his desk. “Your father passed away in a sudden car accident.”

“Yeah. Almost a year ago,” you said, both Winchesters standing off to the side quietly. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Your birth mother has also been missing for several months. It was very sudden and there are signs of a struggle. I don’t think we’ll find her if you understand what I’m saying,” said the chief, gripping the edges of the desk. “Now that’s not one but two suspicious suspected deaths of your birth parents. Isn’t that a little odd to you?”

“Well considering I have a psychopath sister out there, no, not really. She sort of gave off that murderer feel from what I’ve experienced. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one behind it,” you said.

“Your father died when you were visiting him for his birthday. Your mother went missing when you were in Florida on vacation. Both times you were in the general vicinity of your parents, something happened to them. Are you starting to see where I’m going with this?” he asked.

“Oh because I somehow attacked  _myself_  last night and then magically shot at us. It wasn’t like I was in the house or car with both of them or anything,” you said, cocking your head.

“Detective Winchester says she has a partner,” said the chief, standing up straight, looking down his nose at you. “A Derek Evans.”

“Yeah, that’s what we figured out together. What is your point exactly, chief?” you asked.

“My point is we have video evidence of someone looking very much like you committing armed robbery and assault. Then there’s the suspicious deaths,” said the chief. “I might be a small town cop but a suddenly convenient identical twin is a little far fetched, even for me.”

“I already went through this with Dean last night. I was in surgery when that robbery happened,” you said. “Call the hospital and talk to my surgeon if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m not saying that’s not true, Y/N. You have an alibi for the robbery, that’s correct. I’m not even saying you don’t have a twin. I’m more interested in what you, Emily Greene and Derek Evans are up to than how you found each other,” he said.

“What are you even talking about!” you said, glancing to the boys for help. “I found out she existed with Dean. Last night. How many times do I have to say it?”

“I already tried telling him that,” said Dean, rolling his eyes at the chief. “She didn’t know. She didn’t know about Heather Greene…she didn’t know any of it, chief.”

“So your big murderous sis just let you slip away because she what? Decided she didn’t want to kill you after all?” asked the chief. “I think she was trying to give a damn good cover story I’m not falling for.”

“I fought back and ran to the closest cop I could find which just so happens to be Sam two streets over. Or should I just let the bad guy kill me, not bother the police with protecting its citizens anymore? Is that how things work around here now?” you asked, crossing your arms, the chief scoffing. “I’ll just stand there and let them stab me next time if it’ll make you happier.”

“You are this close to winding up in a jail cell,” said the chief, taking the few strides over to you, peering down in your face.

“Chief,” said Sam, holding up a hand. “She was terrified last night. She is not working with her sister. Emily is after Y/N too.”

“I need something, Sam. Some kind of evidence that-”

“Last I checked, chief,” said Dean, stepping in front of you, “It was innocent until proven guilty. Not the other way around. Maybe you should listen to the poor girl that just had one hell of a fucking night and stop harassing her.”

“Both of you Winchesters out,” said the chief. “Now.”

Dean wasn’t budging from his spot until Sam grabbed his brother’s arm, dragging him after him, the chief staring at the door until it shut behind them.

“I apologize. I had to make sure it was actually you and not Emily,” said the chief, his features much softer now. “She’s been known to play games with the police.”

“Wait, you know about Emily?” you asked, the chief nodding his head. “How?”

“Your mother, Heather…she knew about you. I mean, she gave birth to you so it wasn’t like she didn’t know you existed. She kept tabs on you I’m pretty certain. I don’t know what history went on between her and your father or why they separated you and Emily but she called the station shortly after your father’s death. Heather advised that a dangerous criminal may be coming after one of our residents. She thought the call was anonymous but we never thought much of it. We looked into Emily back then discreetly. Only myself knew about it, but there was nothing there to say you were at risk,” he said. “Until now obviously.”

“Okay. Why kick the Winchesters out though? Why did my mother never contact me or-”

“Sam’s a good man. His brother Dean seems like one too. They’re too close to this though. Sam’s your friend and it’s obvious Dean cares for you, even if he hides it well. Emily’s tricked veteran cops, federal agents that didn’t know who she even was. I need the Winchesters to cool off before I speak to them again,” said the chief. “As for your mother, I have no clue. I’m sorry about that.”

“Dean said Emily has a juvie record going back to when she was eight,” you said, rubbing your hand against your temple.

“I know,” said the chief. “I requested it be unsealed the second I got a chance to myself last night.”

“What’d she do?” you asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” he said.

“I think I have a right,” you said, the chief dropping his head.

“Do not repeat this to anyone,” said the chief, waiting until he saw you nod your head to speak. “She was at a friend’s house and they played with the boys father’s gun. The boy was shot in the back.”

“That sounds like an accident though,” you said, the chief nodding his head. “Kids make mistakes.”

“It does. It’s exactly what she told the police. The boy claimed it was done on purpose. They were kids so they let it go and sealed the records as far as I can tell,” said the chief. “Emily had a stable home life. Your mother had a good job, a long term boyfriend that was good to them both. Until one day he left and didn’t come back.”

“You’re saying…” you said, the chief shrugging. “No way. No way a kid could…”

“I’m saying I don’t believe anyone is born bad. Except for maybe her,” said the chief.

“Well that’s just great.”

 

“Excuse me, but did you just say I need a police detail?” asked Dean an hour later. The chief had gathered every officer into the station, putting them on red alert to be on the lookout for Emily and Derek.

“You’re a target and technically, you don’t have any authority in this town,” said the chief, Dean crossing his arms. “Until we can get some reinforcements, we can only spare one officer for your protection. We’ll have rotating shifts with-”

“I might not be from around here but I am a cop. I can take care of myself and her,” said Dean, nodding towards you.

“Oh, I fully expect you can. Do I trust you to keep bunkered down and out of sight though? Not at all. Sam, take these two to the motel on Easton. Get them a room, don’t let anyone in…or out,” said the chief.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” said Dean. “Let me have my service weapon and borrow some gear. I’ll keep the two of us safe and you have another man out there looking for these guys.”

“Chief, he’s got a point. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable having Jack running around without a partner. No offense to you kid but you haven’t handled more than a few parking tickets and drunk guys,” said Sam. “We need as many boots on the ground as we can get.”

“Y/N. Are you alright with having Dean act as your police protection?” asked the chief. You nodded, the chief sighing as he waved Dean to follow him. “Come on. We might as well have you prepared.”

 

“This is lovely,” you said, sitting down on one of the two motel beds. Dean drew the curtains and clicked on a light, sighing as he looked around the dingy room. “How long do you think we have to stay here?”

“Depends,” said Dean, barricading the door with one of the chairs from the kitchenette, taking a seat on his bed.

“Depends on what?” you asked, Dean laying back against the bed, loosening his tie.

“Well…they grabbed about three days worth of clothes for both of us from Sam’s place and yours,” he said, releasing a deep breath, a clock on the wall showing it was a little after nine in the morning.

“What’s that mean?” you asked. Dean turned his head to face you, giving you a smile.

“You should sleep. You need your rest after everything,” he said.

“Says the guy that broke his fall with the roof of a car,” you said. Dean chuckled, nodding towards your pillow. You lay down and Dean smiled again. “So what does that mean?”

“It means what happens to us depends on what happens out there,” said Dean, nodding towards the door. “We just wait and see.”

“You’re serious? You’re really going to sit this one out?” you asked. Dean scoffed, sitting upright as he tried to stretch, grunting when he pulled on his bad arm. “You need a sling.”

“I’m fine,” he said. You rolled out of the bed and walked in front of him. His hand rested on yours when you undid his tie and pulled it from his collar. He let it drop away when you took the ends of the tie and knotted them together, moving it over Dean’s head and working his arm to rest in the makeshift thing. He smiled as some of the pressure was relieved. “Thanks.”

“I might not know how to shoot a gun or stop the bad guy but I got your back too,” you said.

“We aren’t sitting this one out, Y/N. We have the most important jobs actually,” said Dean, smirking when you scrunched up your face. “We’re the ones Emily wants dead. We have to stay out of sight and keep each other alive.”

“I mean…” you said, taking a seat beside him. “I can sort of of understand why she’s after me. I’m her family. She’s trying to kill all of us I guess. But why you?”

“I was on her case? She saw me go to your house? I don’t know. But at Sam’s she didn’t target him when he was clear in view. It was me she took the shot at. Maybe she just doesn’t like ridiculously good looking men,” he teased.

“You are so not like your brother,” you said with a smirk. Dean laughed at that, humming in agreement. “But then again…you are.”

“How so?” he asked.

“You’re a bit…grittier than Sam. Rougher around the edges. A bit flirty. You’re a good person though. You genuinely care. You listened to my side of the story, saved my life. You didn’t even get pissed when I brought a deranged person to start shooting up Sam’s house in the middle of the night,” you said.

“I told you if you needed me, I’d help you. Besides, you saved mine and Sammy’s lives with the heads up. I’m the one that owes you,” said Dean.

“You can’t even take a thank you, can you?” you asked.

“Not really my style. But thanks,” he said, awkwardly looking away. “You should sleep. I’ll wake you up in a few hours for lunch.”

“Dean,” you said, scooting over to your own bed. Dean was mid-yawn when he reached for the tv remote, throwing it on mute so he wouldn’t disturb you. “Wake me up when you need some sleep. I can keep an eye on the door.”

“I’m the one watching you, remember?” he said with a smirk.

“I’m the one watching your back, remember?” you said.

“I’ll show you how to use the gun after your nap, alright?” he said. “Now get some rest, Y/N. Nothing’s going to get in here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader realize what Emily’s up to but it might be too late…

Dean was fast asleep on his bed after lunch and a quick rundown of how to use his weapon. The point and shoot part was pretty self explanatory but he showed you where the safety was, how to reload and most important, how to hold the damn thing so you didn’t cut your own skin like he did back at the academy on his first day. It was a bit silly to hear him say how nervous he was back then. He dropped his fake gun about fifty times, he’d cuffed himself by accident and he managed to get on the wrong side of the strictest instructor within two minutes of getting there. He was ranked the bottom of his class during his first week, told he’d never be a cop and he should quit and save them all the hassle.

He graduated as valedictorian six months later.

That was as far as you got before Dean hit the sack, his light snores giving the too quiet room some noise.

He was restless though, waking up after only two hours to use the bathroom. You thought he might lay back down but he simply took a seat next to you on your bed and leaned back against the headboard.

“Please tell me you got that TV to show more than just the home shopping network,” said Dean. “I can only watch this torture for so long.”

“Would you like me to lie,” you joked, Dean groaning as he slumped down. “So this robbery Emily and Derek committed…what’d they steal?”

“A crap ton of money,” said Dean. You raised your eyebrows, Dean shaking his head. “But not cash. Well…you know how they have those Swiss bank accounts or whatever that people hide their money in? She and Derek hit up a bank here in the states and dumped everything from every account they had there into their very own Swiss account. It was millions. Enough to last a few lifetimes over and then some. I’m surprised they’re still in the country honestly.”

“How the hell did they do that?” you asked.

“Your evil twin and this Derek guy are smart. Extremely smart. They didn’t rob the bank all heist style like you would think. They went to the bank manager’s house. No fancy alarms apart from the one for the house one they deactivated. The guy’s family was there. He gave them the access they wanted in under two minutes apparently. Emily was very convincing from the report I read,” said Dean.

“I really don’t like this chick,” you said. “She just steals and threatens people for fun?”

“Your dad…he never mentioned her at all? You never got a weird vibe or anything that he was keeping something from you?” asked Dean.

“Dad…he said mom died giving birth to me. If that was a lie then, alright. I have to live with it. He never…it wasn’t like he spoke  _bad_ about her but I’m not sure that he actually loved her, not the way you would expect two people who had a child together would be. He’d answer questions when I asked, show me pictures every once in a while but I don’t think he was trying to hurt me, just keep me from the truth,” you said.

“Maybe they knew you had a demon spawn for a sister and wanted to keep her away from you,” joked Dean, frowning when you turned away. “Sorry, that’s not funny.”

“She killed our parents,” you said, Dean keeping quiet. “I mean, odds are she did. Even if she didn’t, she tried to kill us and Sam.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise,” said Dean, squeezing your hand, pulling it away quickly to rest on his thigh. “Where do you think Derek is? We haven’t seen him around yet.”

“He probably does exactly what she tells him and thinks it’s love,” you said.

“Emily didn’t get her shot at us last night like she wanted. She probably figured she could handle it on her own. My guess is she called in Derek for backup to help find us,” said Dean. “We have to be extra careful.”

“Derek’s rap sheet, what was the worst thing he did?” you asked, Dean scratching his head.

“Small stuff until about a year ago. It used to be breaking and entering, minor theft, stuff like that. He upped the game the past year with a few assaults with a deadly weapon, armed robberies, ransom…” said Dean, eyes wide. “Ransom. He pulled a few ransom jobs.”

“What’s-”

“I know how Emily is going to get us to come out,” said Dean, reaching for his phone, dialing Sam. “Call Jack.”

You dialed but only got a whole lot of ringing before his voicemail kicked in, Dean hopping off the bed and pacing around the room.

“Ransom,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “Sam and Jack. You think they’re going to trade Sam and Jack for us.”

“Odds are they’ll probably kill them too,” said Dean, shaking his head.

“Why haven’t we gotten a call yet then?” you asked. Dean glanced at the window, late afternoon from the lack of light shining through and then the clock.

“They must be waiting for night. She wants to use her fancy sniper rifle again I bet,” said Dean. He grabbed his coat and pulled off his sling, reaching out a hand for you. “We have to let the chief know.”

“No,” you said, brushing past him towards his computer. Dean caught your arm but you shoved him off, opening the login to his police login. “I want to look at Derek Evans record first.”

“Y/N, we don’t have time to mess around,” said Dean, clicking off the TV and putting his gun in it’s holster. “We’re going now.”

“You had a bad feeling last night and I ignored it and look what happened. Well I have one of those now. Sam is a good cop and Jack’s new but so is he. No way Derek gets the jump on them both without some help,” you said.

“Y/N,” said Dean.

“Trust me. Please,” you asked. Dean stared at the door a moment, groaning before he walked over and typed in his password.

“You tell anyone I let you go poking around in a police database, I am so fired,” he said, pushing the computer back to you.

“I’m pretty sure you’re a softie when it comes to me, Dean,” you said with a smile, searching for the chief, finding him a few names down. His record was clean like you expected, Dean reading over your shoulder.

“The chief? What’s…” said Dean, watching as you scoured through page after page. “Wait. Go back. Yeah there. Look. He received marks for not showing up for his shift three days in a row back in the day.”

“Have you never played hooky at work before?” you asked, Dean rolling his eyes.

“Yeah but I call in sick like everybody else. He didn’t though which meant he was busy enough with something to not call. Cops don’t do that. We just don’t,” said Dean.

“I still don’t understand,” you said.

“Derek is 31, right? Take the 31, tack on nine months, tack on a few more since his birthday was a few months back and I’m guessing Derek became a bun in the oven right around those three days the chief went missing. Timing adds up. Not to mention the chief seeming to have it out for you,” said Dean.

“If that’s true, then why haven’t Emily and Derek burst through that door already? Wouldn’t they know where we are?” you asked.

“They’d know someone at the station leaked if they did. We don’t have anything but a guess anyways. A far fetched guess at that. The guy could have just gone on a bender for three days for all we know,” said Dean.

Your phone suddenly rang, Jack calling back. Dean tapped the speakerphone, waving for you to speak.

“Jack?” you asked.

“Hey, you called? Everything alright?” asked Jack, Dean’s face scrunching up. “We’ve been in a meeting. We found Derek. He’s holed up on-”

“Hey, rookie,” you heard Mike say in the background. “Let the chick talk. Something might be up.”

“Where’s Sam?” you asked.

“The bathroom. Are you okay, Y/N? Is something wrong?” asked Jack.

“No kid, we’re fine. We thought…maybe Sam might be a target and you since you’re Sam’s partner,” said Dean, rolling his eyes.

“Everyone is accounted for. The Rhoverville force got here not long ago. The chief is trying to divy up search quadrants for Emily since Derek is…sort of holding someone hostage. But we got that covered so you guys hang tight and I’m sure we’ll find Emily soon,” said Jack. “You guys need anything?”

“No, we’re just awesome. Keep safe,” said Dean, hanging up. “So they’re fine. How’d we get that so wrong? Isn’t going after Sam an obvious move?”

“Son of a bitch. Dean, we need to leave, now,” you said, grabbing his computer and shoving it in his backpack, slinging your own on and heading for the door.

“Y/N, slow down. What-”

“Us calling to check if they were okay was the obvious move,” you said, Dean pulling out his weapon and grabbing his bag. “She must know we’re close by and was waiting for us to call so she could get a fix.”

“Dammit. Come on, we need to move fast,” said Dean, his backpack on as you rushed outside, a shot ringing out just barely missing Dean’s head. You tackled him to the ground behind a truck, a hiss of air from tires all around you going off. “She’s shooting the tires. We can’t drive out of here.”

“Elk Forest,” you said, glancing over to the edge of the motel parking lot and the thick trees right beside it. “We’re on the outskirts of the county. We have a shot in the forest, right?”

“Take this,” said Dean, shoving his gun in your hands, pulling out another one from the back of his pants. “Keep your head down and sprint for that tree line. Don’t shoot me. Understand?”

“I got it,” you said. Dean grabbed hold of your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“On three. One…two…three!” he said, Dean and you doing your best to use the cars as cover, more shots overhead until you were sprinting across the small bit of open parking space. You felt Dean stumble, his arm raised as he shot back. You pulled him along with you until you were well into the forest, slipping down a hill and catching your breath behind a tree.

“We just have to hike back to town and…” you said, Dean grunting beside you. His shirt was stained red, splatters of blood on his face and neck, your own body covered with some of it.

“It’s just a shoulder hit,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We have to keep moving.”

“You’re bleeding. A lot,” you said, Dean cursing under his breath. “Dean, that’s a lot of blood.”

“First aid kit. Needle. Thread. Clean your fingers and dig out the bullet. Stitch it up and then we go. You got two minutes before we start moving again,” he said, dropping his bag. He pulled out a flannel shirt and wadded it up, shoving it in his mouth as you flung open the first aid kit.

“Dean,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “What if you pass out?”

“Leave me then and get out of here,” he said, quickly shoving the shirt back in. He tossed aside his jacket and unbuttoned his dress shirt, letting it fall off his torso by the time you were ready to go.

“Sorry,” you said, carefully shoving two fingers into the wound. Dean’s eyes went wide and squeezed shut, his hand shooting to your wrist, barely stopping himself from forcing it away. “S’okay. Just a little…I can feel it. I got it, just one more second…” you said, pulling it out, Dean shouting into his shirt.

You quickly stitched his wound together, Dean squirming just as much at that before you slapped a bandage over top.

“We live, you want to go on a date?” he asked, fumbling to get the flannel he’d bit down on unrolled and on with your help. “If any woman can handle me, it’s definitely gonna be you.”

“Who said you can handle me?” you shot back, Dean scoffing as you buttoned him up, helping him with his bag.

“I just took a bullet for you sweetheart,” he said. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

“We live, you can have as many dates as you want,” you said, grabbing Dean’s hand when he stumbled forward. “Don’t pass out on me. We have a psychopath on our tail and I am so not carrying your ass all that way.”

“Oh, you’re so meant for me.”

 

After an hour, Dean looked less pale and had changed out of his slacks and shoes into jeans and boots during a brief break.. He’d stopped bleeding too which was certainly good for leaving less of a trail but it was starting to get dark and you knew you’d be sitting ducks once the sun went down.

“How far until we hit town?” asked Dean. “Another few miles?”

“Probably. Less than that I’m guessing,” you said. Dean stopped to lean against a tree, staring at your feet.

“How bad do those hurt?” he asked.

“I can run,” you said. “The pain’s pretty much gone at this point.”

“Good. Take off your pack, keep the gun and book it for town,” he said, sliding off his own bag, cocking his gun.

“Dean,” you said, earning a sad smile.

“We’re both hurt and slow. She’s got the advantage. I’ll hold her off, try to bring her in while you get back safe,” said Dean.

“I’m not leaving you out here to-”

“Y/N. You’re tough. You’re a badass and I respect that. It’s still my job to protect you. Odds are she wants you dead more than me so you’re the one that has to get away. This isn’t up for debate,” he said. He was nervous, for you or himself or the both of you, you couldn’t be positive. But his eyes were hard, glancing away. “Go while you have the light.”

“You owe me a date, Winchester. You better not wind up dead,” you said. Dean chuckled, sliding down the tree to his backpack, tossing a flashlight over to you.

“I’ll do my best to stay alive then. Don’t use that unless you have to,” he said. You helped him back to his feet, Dean taking a deep breath. “In case I do though…”

He cupped your cheek, a dirty hand grazing the skin, your nose smashed against his while he touched his lips to yours. He barely moved them, just let them rest for a moment before moving back.

“Tell Sam I’m sorry about his bike in third grade if I don’t make it back,” said Dean.

“Tell him yourself,” you said.

“You got to go. I’ll see you soon,” he said, kissing the top of your head, pushing on your shoulder to get you going. You only looked back once, Dean counting the bullets he had left, slamming the clip back in his gun.

You were a quarter of a mile away when you heard the shooting start.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is left to deal with the aftermath of separating from Dean. Even if that means putting her own life on the line…

“Nothing,” said Castiel, dumping your and Dean’s bags on the floor of the station when he and a few other officers returned. “No Dean. No Emily. No Derek. Just two backpacks and eight casings. Forensics is out there trying to figure out where Emily was shooting from.”

“He might be alive then,” you said. Cas gave you a quiet nod before sliding over your backpack. “Cas. Can I talk to you?”

“About?” he asked, sitting down at his desk, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re my friend. But you’ve been avoiding me all day,” you said.

“I have a job to do. I can’t be worried and effectively do it. Dean was watching you and other people were checking in. I didn’t feel as though you needed another pair of eyes on you,” said Cas, staring at his hands.

“Sorry I asked,” you said, grabbing your bag and looking for another quiet corner of the station to hide yourself away in. You found your way to the break room, settling in on the couch there, Cas following you inside and closing the door.

“You need to be careful,” said Cas. “Extremely careful.”

“Cas, I’ve had a long day and night and I’m going on about two hours of sleep so could you just-”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been trying to dig into your family’s history. Most of what you said earlier about your father matches up. There are discrepancies though. Then there’s Emily. She was in a drunk tank the night your father had his accident. Three states over. She was nowhere near your mother during her disappearance. You said it was implied she did these things but there was no physical way of her doing them from what I can tell,” said Cas.

“You think I actually killed my parents,” you said, Cas shaking his head.

“No, I don’t. I think stories are winning out over facts. Emily has issues and is definitely a threat. But I don’t think it’s as cut and dry as we originally thought. Your father-”

“What about my father?” you asked.

“Did you know he had a record?” asked Cas.

“My dad wouldn’t hurt a fly,” you said.

“I know. But he took the blame for something he didn’t do. It’s obvious reading the statements from the officers but back in the day they may have just wanted someone to pin it on. There is something bigger than your twin sister killing her family going on here. I just want you to be careful about who you trust,” said Cas.

“I can trust you?” you asked.

“We’re the only one’s at the station. If I was involved, don’t you think I would have already done something?” asked Cas, cracking a smile. “My nephew likes you too. I think he’d take a crack at me if I screwed you over.”

“I sort of…am seeing someone right now, I think,” you said.

“You and Dean? Don’t tell me you two were getting frisky in that motel room paid for by the taxpayers,” said Cas with a smirk.

“No you ass,” you said, rolling your eyes. “We’re just…we’ve been through a lot the past day. And tell Jack that Cali from the diner has so been waiting for him to ask her out from the second he got to town.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know. He likes you as a friend more so I should have said. He was nervous to move here, not knowing anyone apart from myself. You were very friendly to him,” he said. “He appreciated that greatly.”

“It’s hard being new,” you said, Cas nodding his head. “I’m sorry that he’s in danger because of me.”

“He’s a police officer. He knew that when he signed up. We all did. You’re the one that’s a civilian after all,” said Cas.

“Does this mean I don’t get Dean’s gun back?” you asked, Cas shaking his head. “Derek escaped the hostage scene. Us both having a gun would make me feel better.”

“If those two are stupid enough to walk into a police station guns blazing, I’ll be ready for them.”

Cas had left you to get a few hours of sleep, your mind restless as you thought over what he’d said. What else hadn’t your dad told you? Why was everything so backwards and what happened to Dean? Did he get away? Did Emily kill him and dump him somewhere? What was Derek even up to besides making diversions for her?

You were munching on a chocolate bar when a phone started to buzz quietly, your head whipping around to find none in sight. Walking around the room, you found it loudest near your bag. You dug around and pulled out an older throw away phone that certainly didn’t belong to you out of the bottom.

“Hello?” you asked when you picked up, the other end quiet. “Hello?”

You heard a grunt and softer sigh, a lighter voice clearing itself.

“Hi,” she said, voice close to yours, a bit deeper but she’d lived life a far share harder than you ever had. “Y/N?”

“Emily. Do you have Dean?” you asked, forcing your voice to stay steady.

“I do. We got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry. I want to apologize. You can have Dean. I just want to talk to you in person. Can…can we do that?” she asked.

“Is he alive?” you asked, the phone shuffling around.

“Don’t come, it’s-” Dean said before it turned to mumbles.

“I won’t hurt him. I just want you to meet me and Derek. We can explain everything to you. We don’t want to kill you. Trust us, it’s the last thing we ever wanted,” she said.

“Alright,” you said.

“Drug the cop you’re with,” she said. “There’s enough allergy medicine in the backpack to knock out an elephant. It goes without saying that you tell anyone, say anything, Dean’s dead.”

“Then why’d you have to say it?” you shot back.

“You really are a little sister,” she said with a smile in her voice.

“Kill him and I’ll hunt you down,” you said.

“Don’t give me a reason to then. Knock out the cop and call back for an address to meet.”

 

Cas had probably figured out you spiked his coffee when he started to slump over in his chair. You didn’t want to hurt him and probably didn’t even give him enough to keep him out that long but you weren’t planning on being gone more than half an hour. The address Emily gave was only a few miles from the station and it was easy enough to grab a cab close by. You hoped the note you left would give you enough time to grab Dean and distract them until Cas and the rest of the cops could show.

Dean’s gun felt heavy tucked in the back of your pants, the idea of having to use it not a pleasant one. You ducked in an unlocked door of the old warehouse as quiet as you could, grimacing when glass on the floor cracked under your boots.

A light flicked on at the end of the hall. You went slowly in that direction, scanning each room you passed, adjusting your backpack so you could get the gun out faster if you had to.

Pushing open the door, you saw an empty floor space, two dark figures standing off to the side, another sat on the floor in the light, all three glancing in your direction. Dean shook his head at you as you got closer, mumbling under the tape on his mouth, his shirt looking bloodier than last time you saw him.

“I thought you weren’t going to hurt him,” you said, keeping your distance. Both figures stepped forward. Derek, just about Dean’s size and build, stood behind him, fisting his hand in Dean’s shirt collar, Dean flaring his nostrils.

Emily, despite all the adrenaline running through you, seeing an almost exact copy of yourself standing there made you forget all that for a second. Her hair was pulled back in a neat braid, not a strand out of place. She had a tight black vest on over an even tighter black long sleeve shirt. Looking her over, you realized she was dressed for stealth, something arrogant and dark about her that gave you the chills.

Yet she smiled softly at you, like it was a natural thing for her to do and she was trying to show you that it was genuine.

“Wow,” she said, giving you the same treatment, looking proud. “I knew we were identical but it’s something to see it in the flesh.”

“I’m here. Now give him to me,” you said. A flash of surprise spread over her face, quickly turning back to Derek.

“I told you she was like us,” said Emily.

“I am nothing like you,” you said, taking a step forward. “You said if I showed I could have him.”

“I did,” she said with a nod. “You can have him.”

She held out a hand for you, Derek stepping away from Dean. Dean just shrugged from where he was sat on the ground, eyes wide when Emily pulled out a gun.

Slapping it straight into your hand.

“He’s yours,” she said, walking you over to Dean. “The safety’s off. You just point and shoot. It’s easy.”

“She’s not like you, Em. I told you,” said Derek, his own gun raised, aimed straight at you. “He’s her boyfriend or something.”

“Der, Y/N’s like us. She’ll understand,” said Emily with a smile. “We just have to explain first.”

Dean rolled his eyes, Emily glaring at him before bending down and punching him in the face. He mumbled under the tape, Emily ripping it off and grabbing him by the jaw.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me a bitch,” she said.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” said Dean, Emily moving her hand away and hitting Dean in his gunshot wound. He gasped, dropping his head as he tried to get his breath back. “Y/N. No offense but you got one fucked up family.”

“Don’t talk to my sister like that,” said Emily, moving to hit him again when you moved the gun in her direction.

“I’d have to agree with him,” you said. “You have to know I’m not going to kill him. I came here to save him, psycho.”

Emily flinched at your words, glancing down like they actually hurt, lifting her head with a sad smile.

“Em,” said Derek. “We got them both. Let’s just-”

“No. We came here to save her, remember? She’s just confused,” said Emily, resting a hand on Dean’s head, Dean trying to shake her off. “She’ll want to kill him once she knows.”

“Good fucking luck with that,” you said, eyes glancing over to Derek, his gaze much harder than Emily’s. “I don’t think your boyfriend likes me.”

“Boyfriend?” asked Emily, Derek chuckling for a moment. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s our older brother.”

“I told you your family’s fucked up,” said Dean, Derek whacking Dean again. “Bitch, stop doing-”

“You want a third bullet hole in you, buddy? Keep talking to her like that,” said Derek. Your eyes shot to Dean looking him over better, a bloody tear in his left shirt sleeve all you could make out with his arms behind his back.

“Guys, calm down,” said Emily, your gun trained on Derek now, a smirk on his lips. “Derek. Let me explain it all to her.”

“She’s too attached to him,” said Derek, lowering his gun a fraction. “We’ll give it a shot though.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, turning back to you. “So, I know this is not how I wanted this to happen. I always thought we’d have this conversation over lunch actually.”

“Do I look like I care?” you said, Emily shaking the comment off.

“Derek’s our brother. His mom is our mom. Heather. Mom…she got in with a bad guy when she was young and she had Derek with him. But she gave up Derek. Then she found our dad and the same thing happened but she didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. She wanted to keep both of us, she really did but our dad made her give you up. They kept us separated. I got mad when I found out, started acting out. I tried to be good for mom, I really did but…she was too nice and she lied to me. She let people take advantage of her. Derek and I met up last year and we helped fill in some of the blanks for each other. That’s around the time I found out about you. We wanted to come to you, tell you that you weren’t alone but it wasn’t safe. Then mom went missing and our dad had that accident and we knew somebody was going after our family.

“Derek and I…we want to take you with us. Just come away with us. We got money. We can do anything we want. We won’t let anyone hurt you either. We just want to get you out of here before you get hurt too. I’m sorry you got hurt when I went to your place last night. You just started fighting me and I’m sorry,” said Emily.

“You actually believe what this guy told you. That’s fantastic,” you said, eyes darting over to Derek. “What about you big bro? You look more like you want to put a bullet in me than bring me on the family road trip.”

“Em’s seen the hard side of life. She didn’t grow up with everything you got,” said Derek. “We know it’ll take time for you to understand.”

“She grew up with way more than me. Dad worked two jobs so we could live in a tiny little house and keep me fed. We had barely anything but he was a good man and took care of me. Don’t lie and say he was this bad person he most certainly wasn’t. I’m not the one that shot a kid when I was eight,” you said.

“He was mean,” said Emily, twitching her eye before taking a deep breath.

“You’re nuts and this guy took advantage of your fucked up head. Sorry this ain’t the happy family reunion you were hoping for but no way in hell am I going anywhere with you two or killing Dean,” you said.

“Please say yes,” said Emily, fishing a pair of handcuffs from her vest pocket. “It’s easier if you come on your own. I don’t want to use these.”

“Yeah, because that’s what you do when you find out you have a twin. Go on a murder spree and kidnap them,” said Dean.

“I am so shoving you in a woodchipper,” said Emily, Dean frozen for a moment. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Okay, Fargo,” said Dean, swallowing hard. You knew he was struggling to get out of whatever had him restrained but his skin was covered in a thin sheen and he was fighting off the pain as best he could at this point. It took you a moment to understand why he was barefoot, no good way for him to runaway with glass all over this place.

He’d already resigned himself to the fact he wasn’t leaving here alive.

“Y/N,” said Dean, looking up through his lashes. “Don’t get dead over me.”

“Not planning on it,” you said, Derek cocking his gun, lowering it down to Dean’s height.

“Bag lil sis. I’ll deal with him,” said Derek, Emily sighing. You turned the gun on her, watching her fiddle with a small piece of metal in her hands. “We took out the firing pin. We weren’t really going to give you a loaded gun. Not until you earned it.”

“Come on, Y/N,” said Emily, holding out a hand and the cuffs. “Don’t make this hard.”

You dropped the gun she’d given you on the ground, Dean giving you a smile.

“You find a way to escape from these two, understand? Or I so haunt your ass,” said Dean, nodding his head.

“Still not planning on you dying,” you said, reaching into your pants, Derek raising his gun up at you when he realized what you were doing and taking a shot. Emily ran back at him to pull his arm down, your gun out by the time he was taking aim at Dean. You squeezed the trigger, the kickback more than you were expecting, Derek grunting as he fell back.

Emily was shouting, Derek shoving her back before she took off running. You kicked Derek’s gun away as he rolled for it, Dean turning back to look over his shoulder wide eyed.

“This might be premature, but I’m gonna marry you someday,” said Dean with a laugh.

“I don’t even know if you can cook yet,” you said, giving Dean a smile, spotting the blood covering his back. “Dean. You got shot again.”

“It’s from earlier. She got my arm. Damn your sis is good with a gun. It’s a good thing she’s lovey dovey for you,” said Dean. “I don’t think Derek has the same sibling bond she does.”

“He’s a cop,” said Derek, sitting up, holding his shoulder. “Y/N. He’s a cop. They destroy our family. I’m sorry I’m not like Emily about this crap. She’s…she’s special. But Dean is a cop and he’s going to turn around and destroy you the second he gets you alone. You have to let me go and-”

“You’re not going anywhere. I’m going to find Emily too and make sure both of you go away for a very, very long time,” you said.

“Y/N, I think it’s time to put down the gun,” said Dean, the sound of boots stomping into the room echoing off the walls, a thousand gruff voices shouting at you put down the weapon and get on the ground seconds later.

You were cuffed and sitting on the ground outside, an officer from the next town over watching you, your gaze on Dean as he refused to let them strap him down on the stretcher to take him to the hospital.

“Y/N,” said Sam as he walked over, Castiel and the chief right behind him. The other officer left you, the three men staring down at you. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell Cas? We could have-”

“Is he going to be okay?” you asked, nodding towards Dean.

“His shoulder hit was pretty bad but your patch job saved him. He’ll be out of the hospital in two hours I bet knowing him,” said Sam.

“What about Derek?” you asked.

“His wound isn’t life threatening but needs to be monitored. He’s not in a talkative mood though,” said the chief. “Sam, go ride with your brother.”

“She did save him,” said Sam, giving you a smile before he headed over to Dean’s ambulance. You avoided Cas’ gaze, the ground seeming a safer option than either men in front of you.

“Officer Novak is not pressing charges,” said the chief, pulling you to your feet and undoing the cuffs. “Detective Winchester is quite adamant that you saved his life and only pulled when both your lives were threatened. I see no reason for you to get in any trouble. Drug one of my officers again though, one of the officers trying to save your life by the way, and this conversation will go differently.”

“Yes sir,” you said, the chief not quite giving you a smile but it was much friendlier.

“Give Officer Novak your full statement. I imagine you’ll want to visit Dean at the hospital again after that,” he said.

“What about Emily? She’s still out there and…she’s messed up, I’ll give her that but she has a short fuse,” you said. “Not to mention I just shot her beloved big brother.”

“She definitely wants Dean dead. You…jury’s still out on that one but I have a feeling she has a soft spot when it comes to you,” said the chief. Cas had his notebook out by the time the chief turned to leave, his face blank.

“Start from the beginning please,” he said, pressing pen to paper.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I know I should have gotten you and told you everything.”

“Yeah, you should have,” said Cas, taking a deep breath. “But I also told you to be careful who you trusted so it’s my own fault.”

“I don’t know what’s going on anymore, Cas,” you said.

“Just start at the beginning and we’ll go from there.”

 

“Hey, Dean,” you said, Cas walking you into Dean’s hospital room, Dean already trying to shove his shirt back on himself. “Are you sure you should be leaving so soon?”

“Yeah and stick around a place where there’s only five hundred ways for Emily to blend in and finish me off. No thank you,” said Dean, Sam finally sighing and helping Dean lift his arms into the thing, a thick bandage around his left bicep, another bandage over his right shoulder.

“We could just post Y/N by the door. She’s pretty good at saving your damsel in distress ass,” said Sam with a smirk.

“I’ll get her to kick yours,” said Dean with a cock of his head. “Ain’t that right sweetheart? You’d think she’s got a career worth experience with how she acts out there.”

“She did throw up after she finished giving her statement,” said Cas. “Just saying.”

“Do I have to drug you again?” you asked, Dean raising an eyebrow. “Long story. They’re going to keep us at the station for now. Safer than the motel they figured.”

“That’s for sure,” said Dean, pulling his new flannel on with a sigh, getting some help up from Sam. He seemed okay for the most part, a few cuts and scrapes here and there, quickly discharging himself and heading for the closest exit sign quickly.

“What’s the rush?” you asked, jogging to catch with him down the hall, Sam and Cas just out of earshot behind you.

“Your siblings are batshit crazy. But Derek had a point not to trust the police,” said Dean. “Sam’s going to take care of Cas so-”

“Cas warned me that something isn’t adding up,” you said, Dean glancing back over his shoulder.

“I can trust Sam. I don’t know Cas,” said Dean.

“Trust me?” you asked, Dean nodding immediately. “Let him in on whatever you’re up to then.”

“That would be a very good decision,” said Cas, Sam grimacing that he had one of his arms pinned behind his back. “I trained you. Don’t forget that, Sam.”

“For an old timer, you still got moves,” said Sam, Cas releasing him, cocking his head at the three of you. “We can’t take them back to the station.”

“Why?” asked Cas.

“Derek’s got somebody on the inside, that’s why,” said Dean. “I heard him on the phone when they had me. I don’t know who or why but if we go there, I guarantee they find a way to get Y/N and me alone and let Emily waltz right in.”

“You’re a detective with the Lawrence county department,” said Cas, Dean nodding. Cas crossed his arms, pacing back and forth in the hall.

“Cas, we have to put them somewhere safe,” said Sam.

“Detective Winchester,” said Cas, Dean stiffening up as best he could. “Based on the evidence you’ve seen so far, what’s your working theory?”

“Derek Evans is very likely Heather Greene and the chief’s son. Considering Emily had an alibi during Heather’s disappearance and Y/N’s fathers accident, I’m leaning towards Derek being the culprit for those. But…Derek is not the brightest crayon in the box from my experience. Emily runs the show. They’re both very odd. They act like children almost at times. The fact Derek snuck out of a hostage situation unseen along with the phone call make me think the chief is aware Derek is his son and is helping him,” said Dean.

“What about Y/N’s father?” asked Cas.

“What about her father?” asked Dean, looking down at you. “I thought he was a victim in all this.”

“Y/N. I…do you trust the Winchesters?” asked Castiel, Sam’s face falling. “This is not personal, Sam. I’m asking because we’re about to step outside the law here and you two have a chance to turn back before we do.”

“I’m getting to the bottom of this one way or the other,” said Dean, wrapping his hand around yours. “No one else is getting hurt.”

“I didn’t ask you, kid,” said Cas, Dean stepping forward, squinting his eyes at him. “What are you going to do to me? You can barely stand on your own two feet.”

“The only reason you aren’t laid out on the floor right now is because she trusts you. I don’t,” said Dean. “I am not letting the freaking crazy town twin get ahold of her. Do not get in my way.”

“You’re pretty defensive over a girl you met a day ago,” said Cas.

“She ain’t most girls,” said Dean. “Either help us or get out of our way.”

“You’re going to pop a blood vessel you keep huffing and puffing like that,” said Cas, shoving Dean backwards on his feet.

“You want to go?” asked Dean, clenching his fists, Cas shaking his head.

“I want you to relax,” said Cas. “Emotions aren’t bad things to have in a case. But they can cloud judgement. We’re missing a piece of evidence and we need it before we can determine what’s going on.”

“He’s a fucking piece of work,” said Dean, Sam stepping between them.

“Cas. Just tell us what we have to do,” said Sam.

“I know what he wants,” you said, glancing at the sign above their heads. “A blood test.”

“A blood test? For what?” asked Sam.

“Y/N you should really consider a career in this,” said Cas. “You’re faster than these two and they’re both very good.”

“Y/N’s father. You don’t think…” said Dean, Sam making a face when he realized.

“I’m not so sure Y/N’s father is even related to her.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes some discoveries about the reader’s family but things just keep getting worse…

“And?” you asked, Sam ducking out of the lab with a smear of lipstick on his cheek. “I hope we pimped you out for something, Sammy.”

“I got her number,” said Sam, Dean wearing a big grin. “Shut up. Y/N your blood and Derek’s has these matches like you expect in siblings. Siblings that come from the same parents.”

“So who’s our father?” you asked. “How did my dad wind up with me?”

“I wish your folks were still around. That would have cleared this up,” said Dean, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“Do you have anything of your dad’s? Anything with DNA?” asked Cas.

“No. I cleaned out his house a few months after he died and the stuff I did keep were pictures, small things. Nothing like that,” you said.

“Your father covered up something once. Maybe…it’s possible they did a DNA report back then and there’s a hardcopy at the station,” said Cas.

“What exactly did he do?” asked Dean. He and Cas had made some interim peace while Sam was busy getting your blood work done but he was definitely uneasy about letting him stay around.

“I don’t know. His entire file was redacted apart from a few officer statements. He served one night in jail at the station and that was it. There’s nothing formal in the system, just a note,” said Cas.

“A coverup. Great,” said Dean.

“I’ll go to the station and search through the records,” said Cas, Dean catching his arms.

“How about Sammy goes with you?” said Dean, a pissed smile on his face.

“Why don’t you trust me?” asked Cas.

“I frankly don’t trust a goddamn person in this town apart from my brother and Y/N. Don’t take it personally,” said Dean.

“Again, your defensiveness over Y/N is a bit strange, don’t you think?” said Cas, cocking his head.

“I know I can be a bastard and an asshole sometimes. I know I have issues. But I like to help people. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. I don’t have to explain myself to you. If she wants me gone, I’ll go. But I’m not walking away because you think I have too big of a crush,” said Dean. “Now man up, do your damn job and find out who her parents are so we can figure out who is killing people and why.”

Cas walked away without a word, Sam taking a deep breath.

“You going with him or what?” asked Dean.

“Yeah, I am. You just…he’s mentoring you, Dean. Not looking for a fight. He’s a weird little guy but he’s one hell of a cop,” said Sam.

“Tell your little trench coat wearing friend to cool it for another time,” said Dean.

“Where are you two going to hide?” asked Sam. You tilted your head, an idea crossing your mind.

“Well…”

 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” said Dean, letting you manhandle him inside and lock the door behind you.

“I knew where the spare key was. Hiding out at Jack’s place should be the least shocking thing I’ve done in front of you,” you said, flicking on the light, Dean nodding his head at the small house.

“You didn’t exactly call and ask permission,” said Dean.

“Are you sassing me right now?” you asked, Dean chuckling as he wandered over to the couch.

“Maybe,” he said, groaning as he lay down. “Getting shot sucks.”

“You want to tell me what happened after I left?” you asked, heading into Jack’s kitchen, finding a tub of leftover ravioli inside. You tossed them in the microwave, finding a glass of water for Dean and setting it down at the coffee table. You placed his pain medicine down, Dean avoiding it as he sat up for the water. “It’ll help with the pain, Dean.”

“It’ll drug me up. Just find me some advil,” he said, greedily sucking down two a moment later. You found a pair of bowls and forks, setting one in Dean’s lap. “Thanks.”

“Where’s your gun?” you asked. Dean pulled it from the back of his pants, setting it down on the coffee table. “That’s a different one.”

“I may have grabbed Sam’s extra one at the hospital,” said Dean. “Emily’s got my spare somewhere. Probably stashed away with that sniper rifle.”

“She hit you with that?” you asked, lightly touching his arm.

“I almost got her but she’s fast. She hit me, knocked me off my feet. Honestly I was waiting for the kill shot but she just walked over with this little piece out, rifle on her back. She was pretty convinced I hurt you. I had to try and talk my way out of it. She decided I was good bait,” said Dean, stabbing into his dinner. “You should have never come to rescue me.”

“Sorry but I like you,” you said, Dean smiling to himself. “Honestly, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he said. “Derek’s more of a physical threat and he’s in custody. Emily is more tactical from what I gathered. She loves you in a totally creepy way.”

“Why is my family fucking insane?” you asked.

“I thought Sammy and me didn’t have the best one but we’re the freaking Brady bunch compared to you,” he said, bumping into your shoulder. “You have an evil twin though. That’s pretty cool.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let her put you in a wood chipper,” you said, Dean snorting.

“Oh thanks. I was super worried about that,” he said with an eye roll. “She’s going to be hard to find now.”

“She wants me to go with her. We can always bait the waters,” you said, Dean shaking his head. “I’m the one person she won’t hurt.”

“That’s why she took a knife to your arms,” said Dean.

“You saw how she acted, even when I had a gun on her. She won’t kill me,” you said. Dean quietly ate the rest of his food, the discussion off the table for now. “Do you want to go to sleep?”

“You’re going to make me, aren’t you?” asked Dean.

“I’ll take the first shift. You can watch after that,” you said, Dean humming as you helped him to his feet. “Jack’s got a guest bed that’s great for passing out on when you’re too loaded to drive.”

“He’s Cas’ nephew right? It’s a small freaking world around…” Dean trailed off, both of you wide eyed as you pushed open the door to the room, staring at the woman sleeping in the guest bed. “Who the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know,” you said, flipping on the light, Dean scoffing.

“He into cougars or something? She’s definitely older,” said Dean. The woman started to stir, moving the hair out of her face, blinking the sleep away when she saw you. “Is that…Heather?”

“Emily?” said the woman, looking around. “Emily what…no…you’re Y/N, aren’t you?”

“You’re my mom,” you said quietly, Heather climbing out of bed, pausing when you took a step back. “I thought…I don’t know what to think.”

“You’re so beautiful,” she said, taking a deep breath with a smile. “God, you look so much like your sister.”

“They’re identical,” said Dean, Heather nodding.

“Yes they are but…you’re different. You’re not…are you hungry? Can I make you something? Where’s Jack?” she asked, peering around the two of you, looking for the younger man.

“How do you know Jack?” you asked.

“He’s…” said Heather, Dean chuckling to himself.

“When did Jack move to town?” asked Dean.

“Four months ago,” you said.

“Heather disappeared just over five. But you didn’t really disappear, did you, Heather. You faked it,” said Dean.

“I want to talk to Jack,” said Heather.

“Well you’re talking to me right now,” said Dean. “Is he undercover?”

“I’m not saying anything until Jack comes back,” she said.

“Jack’s under,” said Dean, running a hand over his face. “Makes sense. He becomes a close friend of yours, trusted, he can investigate the cops and watch your back. This got set up after Y/N’s father was killed, wasn’t it?”

“I’m sorry about what happened to him, I am,” said Heather, offering a sad smile to you. “My number one concern once that happened was making sure you were safe.”

“Me? I’ve never even met you,” you said, Heather holding up her hands.

“I know. But we did what we could given the circumstances,” she said.

“And what circumstances were-” you said, Dean suddenly ripping you down to the ground, glass shattering behind you. Heather dropped like a sack of bricks, Dean’s body covering yours.

“Is your sister a fucking spy or some shit? Fucking hell,” said Dean, dragging you around the corner and away from the windows.

“She just shot her,” you said, Dean crawling over to the coffee table, tucking you up against him when he had the gun again.

“Well, my vote’s for your sister helped kill your dad,” said Dean. “What is she doing out there?”

Dean’s phone rang, his hand reaching in his pocket and answering the call from Sam.

“We’re getting shot at. Jack’s place. Woman down,” said Dean.

“Is Y/N-”

“Vic is Heather Greene. Get us some backup over here pronto, Sam,” said Dean, another phone ringing in the house. You saw a light ringing on the wall, your hand reaching up for it and sliding back down.

“Y/N,” said Emily, panting on the other end. “She was a bitch. She got what was coming to her. I was not trying to hurt you. I swear.”

“Emily, turn yourself in before you wind up dead,” you said, Dean muting his phone call, letting Sam listen in.

“Y/N, listen to me dammit. We have a plan to get you out of there. It’s going to suck but we’ll get you and Derek out,” she said.

“Who is we, Emily?” you asked.

“Me and dad. That man…he stole you. We didn’t know about you for the longest time. Dad’s going to get you back though, okay? It can be how it was supposed to,” said Emily.

“Emily, sweetie,” you said, hearing her pause on the other end. “Let’s just talk. We can talk. You come talk to me and we’ll figure out what do do about Derek. No more shooting, okay?”

“I want to talk to you so bad. But we have to stick to the plan. Dad says you’re smart like us but you’re scared so you won’t listen. I’m sorry. I know you like him but he’s dangerous,” she said.

You barely had the time to spot the red dot in Dean’s hair before you tried to push him down, something hot and sticky splattering all over your face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader learns a few secrets from the chief about her father but getting to the bottom of everything means she’ll have to speak to retired officer, Bobby Singer…

You were groaning as you woke up, Dean out cold on a stretcher, a bandage wrapped around his head. Your shoulder burned but someone was slamming you up against a wall, tightening cuffs around you and dragging you outside.

“What the…” you said, a pair of officers setting you down in a cruiser.

“Emily Greene you have the right-”

“It’s me. Y/N. Emily’s still-”

“We received a tip that Emily brought Dean here at gunpoint,” said the officer, going back to reading your rights.

“Mike. I’ve served you lunch every day for the past five years. It’s me, Y/N,” you said.

“There’s a dead body and an injured police officer inside. You’re under arrest.”

 

“Y/N, apologies for the mix up back at the house,” said the chief, walking into Dean’s hospital room, the sun starting to rise as he slept in bed. “How’s the shoulder?”

“It wasn’t deep, a graze mostly,” you said, adjusting your bandage. “Dean’s head got grazed too. The doctor said he’s lucky all he got was a nasty cut. He’d be dead if I hadn’t pushed him.”

“It’s a good thing you pushed him then,” said the chief, dragging over a chair.

“Are you my father?” you asked, the chief shaking his head. “You’re hiding something.”

“I was trying to avoid this but since everyone keeps getting shot at and you’ve probably figured most of this out with the Scooby gang already…George Y/L/N was not your biological father,” said the chief. “He adopted you if you want to call it that.”

“He stole me,” you said.

“He saved you,” said the chief. “Your birth father knew Heather Greene was pregnant. He didn’t know it was twins. We could hide one baby so we did. Your mother, your father, myself and a few doctors and nurses…we hid you.”

“Why?” you asked. “You were a cop. You couldn’t stop whoever he was?”

“Dean’s a cop,” said the chief, nodding to him laying in bed. “We die just as easy as everyone else.”

“Why my dad? Why him?” you asked, the chief nudging Dean’s foot.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now,” he said, Dean popping open an eye. “Your father, George, was not what your mother wanted. He didn’t have much. She didn’t think he would be able to provide for you. But I vouched for him. Your father was an incredibly good man, Y/N. I knew you’d be safe with him.”

“I knew that already,” you said, the chief smiling.

“When your father died the way he did, Heather called. She had concerns. She’d kept tabs on you from your father for years but she asked I keep an extra eye on you,” said the chief. “That’s when Jack got involved.”

“Didn’t you tell Y/N most of that earlier?” asked Dean, sitting upright in bed, patting the side of his head. “Oh, please tell me that bitch didn’t fuck up my hair.”

“You got shot three times in the past day and your concern is your hair? We are definitely working on your priorities when this is over, babe,” you said.

“Oh, I get a nickname now,” teased Dean, dropping his face when he caught the chief rubbing his temples. “Sorry. You were saying something about Heather?”

“She called to make sure you weren’t like Emily,” said the chief, gazing out the window. “She said she got her father’s darkness or something like that. No matter what, she couldn’t get that kid help and Emily got worse and worse and Heather was afraid. Jack is young but he’s good at undercover. He’s been working Heather’s case for months. She was in witness protection after your father’s accident but for some reason came to Jack’s yesterday. I don’t know if she was trying to warn him, she wanted to see you or what. She had to have known she wasn’t walking out alive.”

“Who is my father?” you asked. The chief moved his chair away, tucking it back up against the wall. “Who?”

“I don’t know,” said the chief. “Just a very bad man.”

“What did Y/N’s dad do? The real one with the cover up I mean,” said Dean. The chief chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“How old do you think I am? That was before my time. Y/N’s father was twenty at most. You’d have to ask one of the retired officers about that,” said the chief. “What do you think that would have to do with Y/N’s biological father?”

“A guy told me I should have all my facts before I let my emotions get in the way,” said Dean.

“Officer Castiel is retiring soon. Granted you live through this, there might be a job opening for you,” said the chief. “I like level headed people out there.”

“Who’s an officer from back then? Are there any still around?” you asked.

“Most of them moved to Florida by this point if they aren’t dead. I think Singer was around back then, probably fresh out of the academy. He’s not too friendly though,” said the chief. “I can send an officer over to chat with him.”

“I’d prefer to handle it,” said Dean, the chief holding up a hand.

“No offense but everytime you two go somewhere, a shooting happens,” said the chief.

“Because we were sloppy. We’re at a hospital now though. People in and out all the time. I know exactly how to get Y/N and I out of here without Emily following us either if you’re willing to give us a shot.”

 

“I can’t believe you had us ride in the back of the morgue truck,” you said, shaking yourself off, Dean laughing as you made your way down the dirt road to Singer’s place.

“Emily’s off our ass for the time being,” he said. “Thanks for taking the brunt of the shot by the way. Even if I have to look like a dork with my hair shaved like this.”

“You are such a loser,” you said, Dean laughing until you joined in. “Do the other side so it matches. Your hair will grow back in fast.”

“I knew keeping you around would be good for something,” said Dean, throwing his good arm over your shoulder until you winced. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said, blinking away the hot flash of pain, giving him a smile.

“You know guys dig chicks with scars,” he said. He wore a big smirk, biting his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. The sun was still rising, a few rays of morning light making his face glow. He looked soft for a moment, like you were taking a nice walk through some nice trees for fun, not to go work a murder case.

“You’re sort of staring at me, Casanova,” you said, Dean tripping over his own two feet. He caught himself but you saw the blush on his cheeks for a split second, not that it took him long to compose himself.

“You should look like absolute crap at this point but you’re still beautiful,” he said. “Granted, I’m exhausted and they gave me a crap ton of pain meds this time around but you know, still hot.”

“You’re a real charmer, Dean,” you said, rolling your eyes and looping your arm through his good one. His body tensed up and you instantly turned your head around, looking for any sign of Emily or even possibly your birth father but Dean shushed you. “There’s nothing there, sweetheart. Just got nervous for a second.”

“About what?” you asked, picking up your pace until Dean made you slow.

“Relax. We both need a breather,” he said, a house popping up in the distance, a small bit of yard hidden away by the tall oaks. “It was your comment was all. Last girl that said that to me threw a drink in my face.”

“Why’d she do that?” you asked.

“I was a drunk cocky bastard. I completely deserved it so no hard feelings on her part. See, normally if I met you out, not the way I did but say at a bar…I’d buy you drink. I might go over right away or I might let you sit and stir for a few minutes. Depends on what kind of girl I think you are and the mood you’re in. I’d slide in with a cheesy pickup line but say something you thought was sweet after. I’d ask your name, questions about you, buy you another drink. By the time you’re tugging me out of there back to your place, my backseat, hell even a motel room…you’d think it was all your idea. In the morning I’d leave, you’d give me a little smile and I’d never speak to you again.

“I did that for years. I wanted a relationship. I did. But I’m too screwed up. I wish I could be more like Sam and have girlfriends like he does but it never seemed to work for me. You are really amazing Y/N. I’m not just talking about the bravery and quick thinking. I never told anyone I was bottom of my class at the academy. I didn’t tell my own family that. It’s stuff like that. You feel safe which is weird considering how much I get shot around you but…I don’t know. I like you…” he trailed off, stopping when you got to the edge of the yard.

“You’re right. They put you on some serious pain meds at the hospital, didn’t they?” you asked, Dean nodding his head with a laugh.

“Fuck. I don’t talk like that ever,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I uh…I should probably lie down soon.”

“Let’s hope Mr. Singer is as helpful today as he was back in the day,” you said, leaning up on you toes, pecking Dean on the cheek, a hazy smile spreading across his face. “You want to be shy but I ain’t having none of that, Winchester.”

“Can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” he teased, following you up the few steps to the front door. He knocked loudly a few times, standing just in front of you. He knocked again, no sounds around apart from the morning critters starting to scurry around. “You think this guy’s home?”

“Who the hell are you two idjits and why are you banging on my front door at first light?” asked a grumpy voice behind you.

“We’re-” said Dean, cutting himself off. You turned your head, a shotgun aimed straight at his back. “Oh come on!”

“Mr. Singer, we’re…” you said, the older man lowering his gun when he say your face. “This is Dean and I’m-”

“You’re George’s little girl. Well, you ain’t so little now,” said the man. “Bobby Singer. I haven’t seen you since you since you were in diapers.”

“Can we talk? It’s about my dad,” you said, Bobby stepping past you both and pushing open the door. He eyed Dean, Dean giving him a thumbs up. “He’s a little…drugged at the moment.”

“Uh huh. Better put him down on the couch before he passes out on the porch,” said Bobby, grabbing one of Dean’s arms and lugging him inside. You closed up behind them, entering a house that reminded you of the one you grew up in if not a bit nicer.

“I’m Detective…” said Dean, taking a deep breath, blinking at you. “I detect things. Ask the hot girl. That’s me.”

“Dean, maybe you should lie down and take a nap,” you said, Dean shaking his head, resting it on a pillow and snoring in all under a minute. “He’s had a long day.”

“Considering you’re the reason the town’s under a curfew at the moment, I’d expect so,” said Bobby. “You’re all over the news, kid. Well, whatever the hell is going on is.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding your head, Bobby nodding towards his kitchen table. Dean was out for the count, Bobby already going to his stove by the time you were spun back around. “You’re cooking breakfast?”

“Well thanks to you two I’m up, ain’t I? Might as well,” said Bobby, cracking an egg into a pan just in time to hear your stomach growl. He sighed, tossing in more eggs, scrambling them up and throwing some on a plate for you.

“Thank you,” you said, waiting for him to take a seat before you dug in, hoping you could get some hot food in Dean too when he woke up.

“I heard about your father. My condolences,” said Bobby. You gave him a smile, pushing your plate aside. “You and that boy in there…what exactly kind of trouble did you get yourselves into?”

“I’m trying to figure out who my birth father is,” you said.

“I don’t know the answer to that,” said Bobby.

“But you helped cover something up, something my father did? George?” you asked.

“George didn’t do anything. He was a good man helping those folks,” said Bobby. You paused, waiting for Bobby’s frown to dissolve before you decided that’s just what he looked like most of the time.

“What’d he do?” you asked. “It might help us.”

“What are you going and digging up the past for? It was nothing and it’s got nothing to do with guns going off around town,” said Bobby.

“Because I asked nicely and he’s dead, otherwise I’d ask him. So you’re all I got,” you said, Bobby raising an eyebrow.

“Alright Miss ants in her pants,” said Bobby. He stood up, walking into the living room past Dean, rolling his eyes. “Are you coming or what?”

You jumped out of your seat, following him to a door and set of stairs into a basement, Bobby grumbling about a step and a flickering light. On a normal day, walking into a basement with a stranger wasn’t exactly what you’d call rational. But Bobby kept on walking, hoisting a trunk up on a workbench, flipping it open to reveal dozens and dozens of files.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“These are the files your father stole from the police station,” said Bobby.

“He stole files. That’s what he did,” you said, Bobby shrugging. “Files.”

“There was a crooked cop in town. None of us could do it ourselves but…who’s to say a door didn’t get unlocked on purpose,” said Bobby.

“What are the files?” you asked, Bobby slapping his hand down on the lid.

“What kind of shit have you seen today?” he asked.

“I was attacked in my house, shot at several times, dug a bullet out of a guy’s shoulder, drugged a cop, rescued a kidnapped cop, shot my older brother, watched my mother die about thirty seconds after meeting her, dodged a sniper bullet, was arrested…and my evil twin and birth father are trying to kidnap me to join the psycho family. Plus I got a hangnail,” you said. “I hate those things.”

“You are George’s daughter for sure,” said Bobby, peeling the lid back off, showing you a file. “This cop was a drug runner. He used criminals homes once they were active crime scenes to store the drugs. Well…your father stole the files so that this cop couldn’t tamper with them and say the drugs were already there and get pinned on him. This was back before they had computers for everything so he screwed that guy over pretty bad. George kicked a lot of bad out of town by keeping these records safe.”

“What’d he get arrested for?” you asked.

“He felt bad about stealing them. We gave him a night in jail, called it drunk and disorderly so he could feel better,” said Bobby.

“Dad,” you said, rolling your eyes with a big smile. “You were always so nice.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with you, kid. Your daddy was barely of drinking age when that happened,” said Bobby.

“The chief said my birth father is a bad guy,” you said, Bobby putting the box back in its place.

“The crooked cop died years ago. Before you were even a thought,” said Bobby. “He is not your father.”

“This is a dead end then,” you said.

“I don’t think so,” said Dean, waddling down the steps, eating your leftover eggs. “Crooked cop would have been super old to be your dad. What if he had kids? It’d piss me off if some guy put my drug running dad away for life.”

“Your dad runs drugs?” you asked, Dean cocking his head.

“No. He’s a retired mechanic,” said Dean, shoveling more food in his mouth. “I think possible kids are a good thing to check out. They’d be the right age. It makes sense with Derek being a few years older too.”

“Who’s Derek?” asked Bobby.

“My girl shot her brother for me,” said Dean with a smile. “Hey, do you got more of these eggs? I’m starving.”

“I think I liked you better unconscious, boy,” said Bobby, brushing past Dean.

“He seems friendlier than I was expecting.”

 

“Well,” said Bobby, twisting a computer around at the kitchen table, Dean pointing at the screen.

“How’d you get into the database? You’re retired like a thousand years ago,” said Dean.

“Drink your damn orange juice, kid,” said Bobby, Dean mimicking him as he bitterly sucked on his straw. “How long until those drugs wear off?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just him at this point,” you said.

“Well dumbass over here had a pretty good idea. The cop had two sons, all around your father’s age and certainly old enough to know what their father was up to,” said Bobby.

“Any criminal records? Big fancy house and cars? Murder puppies for fun?” asked Dean.

“I ain’t a cop no more. You asked about George and I told you. Plus fed you. You should take this to the police and-”

“Givens. The drug running cop’s name was Givens? The Givens brothers are both cops at the station,” you said.

“Could be related,” said Dean, glancing at Bobby. “You mind looking-”

“I was going to fix the carburetor in that mustang out back today but that ain’t happening,” said Bobby, cracking his fingers. A knock came at the door, Bobby slamming his computer shut.

“This is the police, going around and requesting status on all citizens during this troublesome time for us all,” said an officer with a sigh, probably having given this speech a thousand times already.

“That’s Ian Givens,” you said quietly.

“You two in the basement. There’s a safe room behind the metal shelving. Hide away in there. Now,” said Bobby. Dean and you were already in the basement before you heard Bobby shout that he was coming. You couldn’t tell where the door was but Dean yanked on the shelf, quietly opening as you both slipped inside the dim room. He closed the door behind him, locking it tight.

There was a bed and a few chairs, a stockpile of food and water and even a small bathroom tucked away in an alcove.

“Well this is cozy,” said Dean, plopping down on the bed with a sigh. “I really hope we’re just being paranoid.”

“Do you think…” you said, Dean shrugging. “Well now what do we do?”

“There is a bed,” said Dean.

“I’m sorry Dean but I don’t know if your body could handle sex at the moment,” you said. Dean clenched his jaw, the hard look from the diner returning.

“I tell you I used to hookup and now that’s all you think of me,” he said. “I was going to say hey, maybe we crash and get some sleep since we’re both running on empty but I’m glad I know where we stand.”

“It was a joke you idiot,” you said, Dean tilting his head, mulling it over. “Hey, guess what, I’ve had sex with guys and regretted it too. I wasn’t trying to put you down.”

“I think I’m just tired,” said Dean rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, palms out. He stared up you with a blank face, worry under the surface.

“We all are,” you said, sitting down on the other side, laying back with a sigh. “S’okay, Dean. As long as we’re stuck down here, we might as well sleep.”

“Sorry,” he said, laying down, turning his head with a big yawn. “For snapping at you.”

“Seriously, Dean, it’s alright,” you said, finding his hand and resting yours on top. You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath, the ache in your body suddenly creeping in, everything heavy and solid against the lumpy mattress.

It was still the fastest you’d ever fallen asleep in your life.

 

You got about four hours of sleep before Dean was nudging you awake, pouting at the door.

“Bobby hasn’t come down yet,” said Dean. “What if something happened to him up there? The guy is tough I’ll give him that but what if Ian knew Bobby helped cover up for your dad?”

“I came down and checked on you two bozzos not ten minutes after Ian showed up. I let you sleep,” said Bobby, standing in the open doorway.

“How did you…” asked Dean, Bobby holding up a key. “What’d Ian say?”

“He gave his whatever checkup and went on his way. If he’s up to something, he didn’t let it show,” said Bobby. “The boy doesn’t strike me as the murderous type.”

“So that leaves Mike,” you said, frowning. “I don’t get the vibe that he’s up to something either though. I’ve known Mike for a long time. I never once got a weird stare or anything. If he was my dad, my crazy evil dad, wouldn’t he have cracked at least once?”

“I don’t think there’s anything to this Givens thing. I just don’t,” said Dean.

“You know the chief never told us who my birth father is,” you said.

“He knows? What the hell are we doing on this wild goose chase then?” asked Dean.

“No, I don’t know. I only knew of him and that he was bad news,” said the chief, walking into the basement, lowering his weapon. “Ian called and said Singer seemed shifty. Is there a problem here?”

“No,” you said. The chief rolled his eyes, Bobby scrunching up his face. “What?”

“No one followed you here, right?” asked Bobby.

“Of course not,” said the chief.

“You wearing a bulletproof vest?” asked Dean.

“Yeah. What’s with the third degree?” asked the chief, freezing when he felt the muzzle of a gun against his neck. “Maybe it’s possible I was followed.”

“Y/N,” said Emily, dark circles under her eyes but she was sporting a smile all the same. “You’re screwing up the plan. We have to go get Derek and then we can run.”

“Emily, listen. Put down-” you said, Emily’s short fuse lit like that.

“I am the older sister! You listen to me or so help me I’ll blow all three of these guys away and drag you out of here,” she said. The anger was boiling off her, Dean holding a cautious hand in front of you, Bobby sizing her up and the chief grimacing.

“Emily,” said Dean, the gun aimed at him, Dean’s hands up.

“You’re the cop that’s been screwing with her head. You’ve all been lying to her,” said Emily, shoving the chief forward into the safe room, motioning Bobby inside. “Don’t think I won’t kill you.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” said Bobby, walking into the safe room, Emily panting in the doorway. She took turns aiming at each of them except you.

“Em,” you said, her face soft again at the name. “You want me to go with you right? Okay. I will. You have to promise to let them go though. Please?”

“Come here,” said Emily, waving her free hand. “Y/N, now.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, barely letting you shrug him off as you stopped in front of Emily.

“Are you going to be good?” she asked.

“If you let them live, Em, I will be good,” you said. You saw she was torn, wanting to pull the trigger, particularly when her sights were on Dean. “Can you be good too for me?”

“No,” she said, pistol whipping you in the head, tugging your shirt so you fell back into the basement. You heard Dean shouting the loudest before she slammed the door shut. There was hot blood running down the back of your neck, Emily on top of you and tying your wrists together before you could get your vision to stop swimming.

“Emily. We can talk,” you said. She looked around, grabbing a roll of duct tape from a shelf and ripped off a piece, forcing it over your mouth.

“We can spend the rest of our lives talking, lil sis. I know you’re different than me and Der and dad but…you’ll come around,” said Emily, dragging you to your feet, her grip stronger than you were expecting.

When you were at the top of the stairs you tried to kick back, hoping she’d trip herself up but all you got was your face slammed against the wall.

“Behave,” she said, something sharp running over your shoulder blade, shredding the fabric and ripping the skin apart. “You said you’d be good. Now be good.”

She didn’t stop though, making a few more slices, not deep enough to leave any permanent marks but you heard her giggle.

She was freaking giggling at pinning you down and carving you up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

God whatever feelings you might have had for the poor girl were out the window for good. She was getting off on this, on the control, on the violence. The first chance you could, you had to make a break for it.

“It’s okay,” she quietly, gripping the back of your neck when she finished, leading you out the front door and to one of the cars Bobby had in the back. You didn’t resist, looking around to see the police cruiser still on the dirt road. “Don’t worry about the car. By the time they find it, it won’t matter.”

You raised an eyebrow, Emily checking out a few cars before finding an older camaro she liked and popped the trunk.

“Get in,” she said. You hesitated too long, Emily whacking the back of your head again. She rolled you into the trunk and rubbed her hand over your head. “They won’t find them. I promise.”

“Mfh umph?” you mumbled, Emily walking away. You thought for a split second she might shoot you there but she just went to the back of Bobby’s house and kicked in the side door. She splashed some liquid on the floor from a can, dropping something just out of sight inside, a whoof of flames sparking up. “Mefhph!”

“I said I wouldn’t shoot them. I didn’t say I was going to let them live.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has a few close calls and the reader’s father finally reveals himself…

You could smell the fire in your nostrils, praying Bobby had a spare key and they could find a way out of the basement. You had your own problems to think of at the moment though. The trunk of the car was large and you rolled around pretty easily inside of it, a few new bruises popping up you were fairly certain.

But the older car did have it’s advantages.

You’d cut through your zip ties on a bit of rusted corner after a few attempts, your gag off and arms free to take a swipe at Emily if she came close. The trunk itself was unfortunately well made and sparse, nothing in there that you’d yet to find.

“Dammit,” you said, running your hand through you hair, over your injury. It felt hard and you flinched at the rigid feeling. “Please don’t be skull. Or please don’t tell me that’s my skull.”

You tentatively touched the area again, relaxing when you felt the small thin piece of metal tucked away in your hair. You hadn’t remembered putting any bobby pins in there but there was nothing else it could be.

Unless…Dean had put it there at some point.

“Oh, please be don’t be dead you smart boy,” you said, pulling the clip out, working on the trunk latch as best you could in the dark.

The trunk flew open much faster than you were expecting, the car screeching to a halt. You jumped out and booked it off the side of the road, Emily shouting after you by the time you’d gotten a few hundred feet of distance.

You weren’t positive where you were, guessing it was getting close to noon and you were running in a semi north direction. Emily was still shouting at you, her voice quieter as you kept up the pace, spotting a row of houses through the treeline. Someone had to be home to help with the curfew in place for most everyone, your feet taking you through a side yard straight into the street, barely avoiding a cruiser.

“Y/N!” shouted Sam, stepping out of his car, Jack out of the other side. “Are you alright? What happened? Where’s Dean?”

“Fire. Singer’s place. Bobby Signer,” you said, Jack blinking rapidly. “Call it the fuck in, Jack! There’s people trapped inside!”

“Get in the car,” said Sam, moving you around, sliding you in the backseat before all three of you were on the move. “Y/N, what happened? I thought you and Dean were going to talk to Bobby about your dad.”

“Emily found us. She trapped Dean, Bobby and the chief in Bobby’s safe room before she set the place on fire,” you said.

“You didn’t try to stop her?” asked Sam, turning around in his seat, Jack’s hand reaching out for the wheel the only thing keeping you from crashing.

“I’m sorry. Did I forget to mention she had me tied up, played etch a sketch on my back and then threw me around like a rag doll while all this was going on? She would have shot them all if I hadn’t gone with her,” you said.

“The first units are two minutes out,” said Jack, catching half the conversation over the radio, Sam swallowing hard. “What time did you get taken, Y/N?”

“It’s gonna be too late,” growled Sam. “I’m going to kill that bitch and her brother and when we find her dad, I’ll do him too.”

“Sam,” said Jack. “Maybe I should drive.”

“Shut up, Jack. You’re part of this too,” said Sam, white knuckling the steering wheel. “When shit started to go down, when my house got shot to hell with my family inside, you decided to keep the fact you were undercover to yourself? How do we even know you weren’t the one that led, Emily here?”

“The first thing I did when Dean showed up to town was call my supervisor and call the chief. I told everyone Dean being here was a bad idea considering he’d probably make Y/N as Emily but they let it go…wanted to bring her out in the open. We didn’t know Derek Evans was her brother or that Heather would break witness protection and come to me or that their crazed father is running around somewhere…I did what I was supposed to,” said Jack.

“You’re supposed to call your friends and warn them that their asses might be on the line,” spat back Sam.

“You know I couldn’t do that!” said Jack, Sam’s chest heaving. “You’re pissed which I get but I’m not the bad guy. You don’t know that Dean’s gone either so calm the fuck down, Sam.”

Sam shut up after that, Jack a bit unsure of himself, probably not one to raise his voice ever.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam, breaking the silence when you were barreling down the road by Bobby’s house. “Both of you.”

“Let’s just hurry,” you said, Sam hitting the gas harder, the tires squealing when you hit the dirt road, a few fire trucks and police cars around, an ambulance blocking the way.

You jumped out, Sam and Jack right along with you as you jogged up the road until a firefighter was holding out his hands, keeping you back.

“There’s three adult males inside. They-” said Sam, the firefighter pointing behind you.

All three were huffing on oxygen masks, Dean’s shirt a bit charred looking but all relatively okay looking.

“Dean!” shouted Sam, Dean glancing up, eyes wide when he saw you with him.

“You got away,” he croaked out with a smirk. “This girl’s fucking unstoppable.”

“Oxygen,” said Sam, pulling the mask back over Dean’s face. “Y/N got away but Emily’s…starting to lose it.”

“She hadn’t before?” asked Dean.

“Well, she’s losing it worse,” you said, turning around, a paramedic immediately coming over and starting to cut off your shirt. “Dude. There’s only like twenty guys standing around.”

“Just let him clean your back,” said Sam. “You’ll want that to heal.”

“She wrote something, didn’t she,” you said quietly, Sam and Jack nodding their heads. “What?”

“Mine,” said Sam, rubbing the back of his head. “It doesn’t look bad. It’ll scab over and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes, Jack grabbing a spare shirt from the back of the cruiser and holding it in front of you to give you some privacy. “It’s a good thing Sam didn’t tear your head off, huh?”

“I’d hate to be Emily about now,” said Jack, glancing back at the chief. “I’m giving my notice that I would no longer like to work undercover.”

“Kid, I don’t give a fuck what you do. Just help us catch her,” said the chief, coughing hard before moving his mask back.

“How’d you guys get out?” you asked, Bobby and the chief pointing at Dean. “What’d you do? Crawl through the air vents?”

“There were cobwebs and a spider and I almost turned around and let the fire get me too than have to crawl through that,” said Dean, shaking his body. “Gross.”

“Wonder boy managed to climb outside and get back in to bust us out. It’s a good thing you’re so skinny, otherwise we’d have ended up as barbecue,” said Bobby.

“I think you’re warming up to me, old man,” said Dean, Bobby whacking Dean in the back of the head. “I got shot there you know!”

“It’s a good thing you got such a thick head then, ain’t it?” shot back Bobby, Dean pouting as you pulled his mask back up.

“Get your breath back,” you said, Bobby and Dean rolling their eyes. The chief was quiet though, staring at the ground. “What’s with the look?”

“Long day,” he breathed out. “I was stupid to come here. I led her right to you.”

“Chief?” said Ian, his radio going off, someone on the other end talking a mile a minute. “Something’s going down at the hospital.”

“What exactly does that mean?” asked the chief, Ian glancing around at the other officers before settling on yourself. “Ian.”

“Derek Evans is missing,” said Ian. “Officer Novak just started his shift to watch him. He sustained a gunshot wound.”

“Is he okay? Where? How long ago?” asked Jack, already walking towards Sam’s cruiser.

“He’s headed into surgery from what I could make out. If you’re going to get shot, a hospital is probably the best place to have it done I suppose,” said Ian.

“Keys,” said Sam, tossing them over to Jack. “Go be with your uncle.”

“You’ll be down two guys and…” said Jack, the chief shaking his head.

“Jack, go and watch him. When Cas wakes up, ask him what the hell happened,” said the chief. Jack nodded and climbed into the car, backing down the dirt road before you heard him gun it down the road. “Derek’s out. That’s just fantastic. We should have moved him back to the station.”

“Should of’s aren’t going to help us,” said Sam. He crossed his arms, looking around at the smoky house, the fire seeming under control now. “We’re too far from the hospital. I don’t care how fast Emily drove. She couldn’t have set the house on fire, grabbed Y/N, lost her and then driven to the hospital to get Derek out. It’s too tight of a window.”

“You’re thinking Daddy dearest is finally coming out to play?” asked Dean.

“If he thought Emily had Y/N, he might have made the move to get Derek,” said Sam. “They want Y/N. They aren’t stopping until they do from the sounds of it.”

“They found Derek,” said Ian, jogging over with a radio, handing it to the chief. He tossed aside his mask and walked away, Ian taking a deep breath. “He was in a stairwell…stabbed.”

“Did he say who shot Cas?” asked Dean, Ian shaking his head. “He’s dead, isn’t he.”

“Cindy found him,” said Ian, Sam wincing. “Cindy doesn’t like blood so she’s kind of…in shock.”

“Okay,” said Sam, running his hand through his hair. “Um, we need to work the scene. Get forensics down-”

“Forensics is working Y/N’s place and your house and the motel and the warehouse. I doubt they’ll even get here until this evening,” said Ian.

“Well pull them off digging a bullet out of a wall and send them to the fresh body on the ground. Now,” growled Sam, Ian cocking his head.

“Who died and made you chief?” asked Ian, the chief slapping the radio back into his chest.

“Winchester, cool it. Givens, do what he said,” said the chief, spinning around. “Fuck, I need more officers.”

“You got two sitting right there,” you said, pointing at Bobby and Dean, getting the all clear from the paramedic. “Just sayin’.”

“One’s retired and one looks like swiss cheese,” said the chief, Dean and Bobby scoffing. “No.”

“I was doing this job when you were still in diapers,” said Bobby. “As far as I’m concerned, I ain’t got much better to do at the moment besides watch my house smolder.”

“Givens,” said the chief. “Take Mr. Singer back to the station, get him cleaned up and then head to the hospital to start interviewing witnesses. I think we can handle that for the time being.”

“What about swiss cheese?” asked Dean.

“I’d take the untrained civilian over you right now,” said the chief, Dean scowling. “You two are hiding away and when I say hide, nobody knows. Nobody. Not even me.”

“Then how do we hide?” you asked, the chief nodding to the mass of cars in Bobby’s backyard.

“Take one. Drive somewhere and lay low,” said the chief, walking away. “Radio Sam when you get there and no one else.”

“Why only Sam?” you asked when it was just the three of you, Dean stretching with a sigh.

“I’m the only one the two of you will trust to keep my mouth shut, even if Emily and the gang catches up with me,” said Sam. “You should get going before whoever killed Derek comes after you guys.”

“Wasn’t it-”

“Y/N, timing still doesn’t fit. Besides, Emily fawned over that guy, right? I’m guessing she’ll be all tore up when she finds out,” said Sam.

“That’s an understatement.”

 

“Dean,” you said, sitting down beside him on the couch. You’d found a small hunting cabin off a trail off a fire road off a dirt road off a backroad and you were pretty sure you couldn’t get much more off the grid than you were.

“Sun’s going down,” said Dean, the long shadows in the cabin growing darker, Dean’s face more shrouded in darkness as you silently let the time go by.

“Do you think we’re going to live through this?” you asked.

“I have a preference,” chuckled Dean. “I think you live either way. What kind of life that is if this goes south though…eh, you’d figure a way out. You’re smart like that.”

“You’re not going to die,” you said, Dean laughing so hard you felt his chest rumbling where your arms touched.

“I better not. I’ve spent all afternoon planning the best first date in the world,” he said.

“How’s it go?” you asked. Dean just tilted his head with a smirk, bopping your nose. “One hint?”

“I’d walk you to your door at the end of it and kiss you goodnight,” he said softly.

“You could kiss me now,” you said. Dean’s eyes glanced down to your lips, rising up carefully. “If you want.”

“Just a kiss,” he said, pulling you over to straddle his lap. You wrapped your arms gently over his shoulders, resting your forehead against his. “You won’t break me.”

“What if I want to,” you said, Dean’s green eyes darker than before, throat swallowing down a comment roughly. “What if you want me to.”

“Why would I want that?” he breathed out, brushing his lips against yours, pulling your hips closer to his own.

“I can put you back together that way,” you said, Dean pausing the hand that was roaming up your back. “I think the only reason I haven’t had a meltdown yet is because I know you’re by my side. I’m not perfect but I can try to do that for you…if you want.”

“I’m the one that’s supposed to protect you,” he said, mumbling against your skin, landing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I shot my own brother for you. If you’re looking for a more perfect girl, good luck finding her,” you said, Dean laughing as he went back for seconds, moving his lips slowly.

“I didn’t say you weren’t the perfect girl. Just…I always protected. It’s been my job since I was four years old, to protect Sam, then to protect everyone. I don’t know how to let someone do that for me,” he said. You leaned in closer, pressing your chest to his, his arms moving freely over your back, careful to avoid your injuries.

“It’s easy,” you said, nuzzling into his neck, rolling your hips against his, already feeling the solid muscle and strength.

“You really are going to break me,” he said with a happy sigh, nipping at your bottom lip, tugging on it between his teeth. “I think that might be a good thing.”

“Tell me you have protection on you,” you said. He shoved his hand in his back pocket, pulling a packet out but holding it out of reach.

“Don’t think this always means you’re on top,” he said, smirking as he handed it over.

“Sh, this is for you,” you said, setting the condom to the side for the moment, going back to kissing him, lightly marking his skin until you felt him throbbing against you. Dean’s hands were alternating between pulling you close and working on the button of your jeans, a groan rising up from his throat when you pulled back.

“We aren’t doing this because you think I’m going to get killed out there, right?” he asked.

“I want you and you want me and this is basically the third date already,” you said, undoing his belt, tugging his jeans down until you saw him pop free. “Fuck me.”

“If you come back over here I will,” he said, tearing open the condom, watching you shimmy out of your jeans and underwear. A silly smile was plastered on his face, forgetting all about what he was doing until you guided his hand over his cock. “I want to see all of you.”

“I’ll rip my stitches if I try to take off my shirt. Or yours,” you said, running your hand under the flannel, feeling smooth skin ripple under your touch.

“No, I meant…someday soon. We can take this as slow as we want,” he said, moving your hand away, resting his own on your bare hips.

“We can take it slow now,” you said, climbing back on the couch, settling yourself over him. Dean guided your hips downwards, sliding through your folds teasingly until he slipped his tip inside, skipping a breath.

He made sure you felt every throbbing inch as you went down, full and satisfied already when you came to a stop. He kissed you with less fear now, arms wrapped around you tightly but not crushing, something safe to hold onto. You ground your hips more than slid off him, not that Dean was minding it. He was injured, you both were, and if he was letting you drive, you had to take it easy.

Dean only forgot about that when you were coming around him, walls clenching him into his own orgasm, his body tensing and crushing you against him for the briefest of moments. You hissed but didn’t care, Dean relaxed and with a different look in his eye.

Five minutes later you were redressed, curled up on the couch and half asleep, Dean’s arm draped over your waist. You took the first watch, not much light anyways apart from whatever the moon was giving off. Dean was still awake, his thumb running back and forth over your hand.

“You should sleep,” you said.

“I won’t let her take you again. Emily or your dad,” said Dean. “We’ll find them.”

“Will I have to go into witness protection if we can’t?” you asked.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m used to cattle tippers, not shootouts and kidnappings and murders,” he said. “Last week I handed out two tickets for speeding. This has sort of scared the crap out of me.”

“Hopefully Cas is okay and can tell us who shot him,” you said. Dean hummed behind you, his breathing settling into an even rhythm. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open with his warm body tucking you into his nooks and crannies but you knew one of you had to always be on alert.

It was close to midnight and Dean’s turn to take over the watch when you heard the private radio Sam left behind crackle to life.

“De, over,” said Sam, pausing a minute. “Hey, short and bossy. Answer, over.”

“Hey, Sam,” you said into the radio, Dean stirring behind you, stretching as you sat up. “Is Cas okay?”

“He made it through surgery. He’s in intensive care. He hasn’t woken up yet but the doctor expects him to after he gets some rest,” said Sam. “Jack and Bobby found something.”

“What’s up, Sammy?” asked Dean, rubbing his eyes. “You find them yet?”

“Yes and no,” said Sam, not saying another word.

“Do you care to elaborate?” asked Dean, rolling his eyes.

“It’s better if I explain in person,” said Sam. Dean pulled your hand away from the talk button, holding up a finger to you.

“It is?” asked Dean. “That’s uh, that’s a no can do Sammy.”

“Why do you always have to pull that shit? I want to talk in person. I’ll come to you,” said Sam.

“Sam, we can talk right here,” said Dean, waiting for him to say one of his safe words you were pretty sure but Sam wasn’t throwing any out there.

“I’m coming right now whether you like it or not. Right fucking now,” said Sam. “Understand me?”

“Yeah, I understand you,” said Dean, clicking off the radio, grabbing your hand. “We have to get out of here. She’s coming here and I bet she’s already on her way.”

“How do you know?” you asked. “Sam didn’t-”

“Somehow they must have traced the radio signal. I don’t know but Sam told us to run so we run,” said Dean. “Don’t speak out there, be quiet and if I go down, you keep running.”

“I hate this,” you said, Dean humming as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Just keep running.”

 

“Hi,” said Dean to the nurse at the front desk, giving you and Dean a curious look as you spotted Sam in the hospital lobby. “What happened?”

“She called and said she knew where you were. I figured it was a lie but she knew what car you took and said cabin. It was good enough for me. I tried to make it sound like a normal call but she probably figured it out,” said Sam.

“Why didn’t we see her out there then?” you asked, glancing around, on edge in the big open space with strangers milling about.

“She wanted to draw us back to town, that’s why,” said Dean, walking towards the elevators. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

Sam led you upstairs to ICU, letting you poke your heads in on sleeping Cas and a nervous Jack before showing you to an empty waiting room.

“How’s Cas doing?” you asked, taking a seat in a chair, the guys sitting down across from you.

“He’s stable. They’re still waiting for him wake up. Jack’s making sure no one comes back to finish what they started,” said Sam. “Forensics doesn’t have anything on Derek’s murder yet.”

“It had to have been either Y/N’s father who we still don’t know about or this cop they have on the inside,” said Dean.

“None of these people would ever do something like that Dean,” said Sam. “They’re my friends. Most of them are Y/N’s friends too. I don’t buy into it.”

“Sam,” said Dean, Sam squinting his eyes at his brother. “We have to consider it.”

“At first you thought it was the chief. Then you didn’t trust Cas. Then you looked into the Givens brothers. There ain’t many cops left for you to accuse, Dean,” said Sam.

“You’re right. It couldn’t have been the chief, you or Jack. Ian and Mike are clean and were on patrol. Stacy and Ray were out there too. Cindy found the body. I don’t need my detective skills to say we talk to Cindy,” said Dean.

“Cindy is sweet and doesn’t go around killing people. She’s a mom,” said Sam.

“Has Cindy gone home at all?” you asked. “She has a baby.”

“Your point?” asked Sam, Dean rubbing his hands over his face.

“Even sweet Cindy would probably snap if her kid’s life was on the line,” said Dean. Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “Just check that the kid is alright.”

“Officer Winchester?” asked a nurse, knocking on the door and walking straight in. “You said to let you know if anything strange happened?”

“What is it?” asked Sam, on his feet in a second.

“The fire department just called. A baby was left there but it’s got to be at least four months old they said,” said the nurse, Sam turning around with a hard face, grabbing at his radio.

“Could we get a forensics team over to Cindy Hodgkins house? Possible crime scene. Get Cindy over to the hospital too. I think her shock regarding Derek will wear off once she gets here,” said Sam, pulling away and asking the nurse to have him called when the baby got there. “Why would Emily have her own brother killed?”

“Maybe it was your father,” said Dean. “Or another random evil sibling.”

“Do either of you have five bucks?” you asked, Dean pulling out a bill from his wallet. “I need coffee.”

“Grab me some?” asked Dean. You nodded, Sam following you into the hall.

“Did you want a cup?” you asked, Sam shaking his head. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been at your and Dean’s throats all day,” said Sam, awkwardly shifting on his feet. “I dug you out of whatever hole you were hiding in for nothing.”

“You don’t know that,” you said, giving him a smile. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“I think I caught an hour around dawn,” said Sam.

“Dean just had a few hours. After that baby gets here, go find Dean and let him watch out for you while you catch a few,” you said. “We need to keep fresh.”

“Get Dean one of those pie things if they got them,” said Sam, pulling a few more dollars from his wallet. “I can hear your stomach from here.”

“Pie…any flavor he likes best?” you asked. Sam chuckled, walking back with a smirk. “What flavor?”

“Any. I think pie was his first true love actually. I’ll be down in the lobby waiting for the baby to show if you need me,” said Sam, heading down a different corridor, leaving you to head for the machines at the end of the hall.

You hadn’t realized you were blocking the machine when you popped open an eyelid, a man standing patiently behind you.

“Sorry,” you said, chugging your coffee with closed eyes, the man chuckling as he bought himself a cup.

“S’okay, kid. No one gets much rest around here from what I can tell,” he said, sipping on his own cup when it finished, giving you a friendly smile. “My daughter’s here. Longest three days of my life.”

“You’re telling me,” you said. The man gave you a quizzical look, something unnerving in the air suddenly. “I should get back.”

“Me too,” he said, stepping aside and wandering a few steps in front of you, slipping into a room. You glanced inside, the man sitting down in a chair next to a young girl, a smile on her face as she rolled back to sleep.

“Now that’s the kind of relationship I’d like to have with my daughter,” said a gruff, playful voice in your ear. You felt the tip of something sharp in your back, a hand on your shoulder keeping you close. “Walk with me now or I kill them both and then go find your friends.”

You moved with him back into the hall and to the elevator, breathing hard when the doors shut.

“You look just like your sister,” he said, sliding his hand down your arm, pinning your wrists behind you, sliding a tie over them and pulling it too tight. “Identical twins. I could tell from a hundred feet away you weren’t Emmy though.”

“You’re my father,” you said, the sharp object pulled away and a strong hand on your bicep replacing it. The doors opened in the parking garage, the man pulling you along quickly and to the back of a black car.

“Yes, I am. I’m Nick. It’s nice to finally meet you Y/N,” said Nick. He spun you around, not as menacing looking as he sounded. He had a pained look on his face almost, fiddling with a bandana in his hands. “I’m going to take you somewhere private so you and me can talk.”

“Here’s good,” you said, Nick chuckling, toying a fine line between amused and creepy.

“Emily was right. You do have a mouth on you,” he said, spinning you back around, tying the fabric over your eyes. He was gentle as he lay you down in the back, tossing a blanket over you.

You tried to keep track of the turns he made but after a while you figured he was just doing it for fun, your head screwed up entirely by the time he came to a stop. It was quiet out and raining when he helped you sit upright, a hand guiding you through a doorway into a building. He led you down a long hall from the sound of the linoleum and into somewhere with concrete, possibly a warehouse or abandoned building around town.

“There you go,” he said, pulling the blindfold off, your eyes adjusting to the one spot of bright light you were under in the room. He didn’t remove the restraints, walking around you to a table with a few bottles of water on it. “Thirsty?”

“No,” you said sharply, Nick lifting his chin, setting the water down. “For such a family guy, you seemed pretty okay with having your own son murdered.”

“Emily’s idea sadly,” said Nick, smiling when your face dropped. “She didn’t trust him after what happened with the three of you in the warehouse. She thought he might try to kill you and to be honest, she had a point. You should really be thanking her.”

“You’re insane,” you said.

“Derek didn’t care about the family. He did it for money. Emmy was so excited to have a brother and we both thought he really was in it to be with us. But Derek wasn’t willing to put in the work like his sister. I guess he was a bit too old when I found him. Already a man. Too set in his ways,” said Nick, sitting down on top of the table, folding his hands in his lap. “You’re smart though, Y/N. I don’t think you’ll make his mistakes.”

“You want me to what? Join your little psycho family?” you asked, Nick cocking his head. “No fucking thanks.”

“They stole my daughters from me. Derek wasn’t so much hidden as I didn’t know he existed but you girls…Heather hid you away, she stole Emily. What kind of person does that?” he asked.

“People that were trying to protect us,” you said, looking him up and down. “I think they had the right idea from my experience.”

“Y/N, honey,” he said, your skin crawling at the name, his body fighting off some kind of reaction to your shudder. “This is not how this was supposed to happen.”

“Well what was supposed to happen? All you have done is hunt me and-”

“You have to understand something about your sister,” said Nick, holding up a hand. “She gets excited at times. We only found out about you a year ago. When we were looking into that Detective Winchester we realized he had a brother and we found the brother and there was a girl that looked just like you. It had to be you. I was going to come to the diner and talk to you. That was it. None of this. Emmy…like I said, she got excited.”

“That girl is fucked up and I’m pretty sure you did it,” you said. Nick stood up, walking the few feet over to where you stood, glaring down and reaching out a hand. You expected anything other than him to pat the top of your head.

“She’s different,” said Nick, backing away with a sigh. “She is so, so good at this but what’s wrong with that? If you’d found out you had a twin sister another way, wouldn’t you have been excited?”

“Not the point,” you gritted out. Nick sat back on the table, swinging his legs lightly.

“I found Emmy when she was seven. Heather hid her well but not well enough. Emmy didn’t trust me at first either but she understood I was her father and I only wanted to help her. You’re not a little girl though, Y/N. I can’t teach you like I taught her. We lost all those years you’ll have to understand,” he said.

“Sorry buddy but I’m not going to be a good little soldier for you,” you said, Nick smirking from his spot. “Do what you want to me. I’m not ever going to be like her so either kill me or let me go.”

“I could never kill you, honey. I can let you go though,” he said. You did a double take, sure you heard him wrong. “This has all been a lot for you, I know. We can let you go, let you get your head on straight and you come back to us when you’re good and ready.”

“You did all this to get to me though,” you said, Nick shrugging.

“What kind of father would I be if I didn’t consider my own daughter’s wants and needs? For example…” he said, snapping his fingers.

You heard movement behind you, two pairs of footsteps before Dean stumbled into your back, quickly shoved in front of you. He was panting hard, a fresh cut on his cheek, hands behind his back. Emily grabbed him and pushed him towards Nick, the older man catching him and spinning Dean around with a big smile, tossing an arm over Dean’s shoulder.

“Derek was unwilling to consider the needs of this family but I’m not. Emily doesn’t even want to kill Dean anymore, right sweetie?” asked Nick. Emily smiled, looking between you and Dean like this was a good thing.

“This twin thing comes in handy for catching this one,” said Emily, Dean rolling his eyes at her. “We need to work on his manners.”

Nick patted Dean’s shoulder injury, rubbing the heel of his palm into it, Dean groaning through his teeth.

“So Y/N, honey, you go on ahead. We’ll take Dean here and get him accustomed to the family so when you’re ready, you don’t have to give him up. How’s that sound?” asked Nick, Dean shaking his head.

“Just go,” said Dean, taking a shaky breath. “Get the hell away and don’t come back.”

“Emily,” said Nick, shoving Dean back at her. “Play with your new toy while I finish up with your sister.”

“Toy?” asked Dean, Emily grabbing him by the hair, pulling him with her towards another hall. “I swear to God bitch-”

“Oh and Dean…behave or else we might have to come get Y/N before she’s ready, if you understand,” said Nick. Dean went quiet, shoulders slumping as he let Emily manhandle him away. “Now when you’re ready, you just call this number and we’ll come get you.”

He set a card down on the table, standing up with a softer look on his face, giving you a hug.

“I won’t let Emmy hurt him too bad,” he said, rubbing your arms. “I promise.”

“When I’m ready, I just call that number?” you said, Nick nodding his head. “What if you don’t answer?”

“I’ll answer,” he said. You nodded, taking a deep breath before you moved your arms in front of you, Nick wide eyed before you plunged a small blade into his chest, sucking in a rattly gasp of air.

“I don’t think you will,” you said, pulling it out, Nick falling to the ground. “Dean gave that to me just now. I guess you aren’t as impressive as you think you are.”

Nick sucked in another hard breath, weaker than before not that he was much of a threat now. You headed down the hall Emily dragged Dean down, glancing inside each room until you heard a shout that sounded unhuman.

“Emily,” you heard Dean grit out. You ducked around a corner, crawling along the ground behind a counter before you spotted Emily with a knife of her own in her hands, leering over Dean in a chair. “Emily, we can talk. Your sister would probably want me to be able to walk again.”

“I have to wait because of you,” she said, holding the bloody blade in Dean’s face. “Stop being such a baby.”

“Emily,” said Dean, his feet bare and ankles tied to the legs, toes squirming as she dragged the knife’s edge of his skin. One of them looked bloody already.

“Did you know the hands and feet have some of the most nerve endings in the body?” she asked, forcing Dean’s foot up so she could trace the blade over the arch of it, along the delicate flesh. “I could break you just from this.”

“I don’t think you will,” said Dean, sighing and glancing up at you, Emily spinning around in time for you to stab her in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she shouted, ripping it out and tossing it on the ground. “Y/N. What are you-”

“Fuck,” you said, shaking out your fist, Emily flat on her back out cold from the impact to her face.

“God, you’re perfect,” said Dean, wincing as you cut him free, his left foot covered in blood and shaking on its own. “It’ll be okay. What about your dad?”

“I think I killed him,” you said. Dean nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “I think I broke my hand too.”

“We can fix that.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to have settled down but Dean and the reader still have questions for someone close to them…

“Hey, Cas,” you said around eight in the morning, popping open the door to see him and Jack eating breakfast. He gave a wave, mouth full of food as you held the door for Dean to come in on his crutches.

“You got to flirt with the pretty nurses if you want extra bacon, dude,” said Dean, finding a spot in a comfy looking chair, kicking his bandaged feet up on the end of the bed.

“I should have left him in his bed,” you said, something slipping over your head, someone moving your braced arm into your sling.

“I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you two take off,” said Sam.

“Worried I was gonna get kidnapped again?” teased Dean.

“You kind of are a damsel in distress you know,” you said. Dean faked a scowl, a real one on his face when Sam tossed a sling at him, maneuvering himself into it with some effort.

“Is Cindy alright?” asked Cas. Sam rubbed the back of his neck with a shrug.

“Well, she admitted to shooting you and killing Derek. But your statement and the circumstance will probably help her,” said Sam. “Did you hear anything on Heather?”

“I still don’t know why she broke protocol or came to me,” said Jack. “My supervisor thought she wanted to warn me about Nick. I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

“Hey, Sam. Why don’t you take your partner and go grab us some coffee that doesn’t taste like crap? One of those pie tasting muffins too while you’re at it,” said Dean.

“Alright, princess,” said Sam, ruffling Dean’s hair. “Come on Jack. You can meet all the feds running around while we’re at it.”

Dean had a big smile on his face as they left, letting it fall away once he saw you move to close the door.

“Castiel…Y/N and I would like to discuss something with you,” said Dean, leaning over in his chair, waiting until you were sitting down beside him to cock his head. “Why’d you switch out Derek’s blood?”

“What?” asked Cas, looking back and forth between you. “I have no idea what-”

“Jack had blood taken two nights ago, same night as Derek Evans. Now we all saw the blood results. I was a full blown sibling match to that blood. Only now when we re-ran Derek’s blood, it turns out he’s only my half brother. Isn’t that a little odd?” you asked.

“I’m going to have to agree with Y/N here and say that’s pretty weird. It’s pretty weird considering you were the one that brought the blood straight from Derek’s room to the lab. Did you do a fancy magic trick, Cas?” asked Dean, taking a deep breath. “Was it Jack’s blood?”

“I don’t have to justify anything to you,” said Cas.

“Maybe not me but how about her? She’s been to hell and back the past few days and if there are anymore crazy, fucked up kids running around out there, we want to know about it,” said Dean. Cas lifted his chin, the motion simple but it was enough for it to click for you.

“You’re Nick’s brother,” you said, Cas glancing away. “You’re not Jack’s mother’s brother. Your Nick’s.”

“Our family has had issues long before you existed. Before any of you kids existed,” said Cas. “My older brother…you are not the only one to have a sibling that is unhinged.”

“You knew it was Nick all along and you led us along on some wild goose chase for what? To protect him?” asked Dean.

“To protect Jack. Nick, as far as he was concerned, only had 3 children. He never knew about Jack. He never knew about me. This family has been split up and torn apart for as long as it has existed. When I realized who my brother was, that my good friend Kelly was having his child, that he didn’t know about Jack…we hid him, just like was done for you,” said Cas.

“Why does this family fucking hide children? What the hell is it that-”

“If you knew our true family name, you would recognize it. We don’t come from good stock, never have. Most don’t end up as bad as Nick or Emily but it’s what we do to try and keep everyone safe,” said Cas.

“But you said your friend Kelly had Jack,” said Dean. “How can…there is no Heather Greene, is there.”

“It was pure coincidence she ended up as Jack’s first undercover job. He didn’t know he was protecting his own mother. But she did. I think she wanted to see him one more time,” said Cas.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said, Dean turning his head towards you. “Emily killed our mother. I killed our father. Maybe we are bad people. He was letting me go. I didn’t have to do it.”

“What do you think would have happened to Dean if you hadn’t?” asked Cas. You’d already decided you never wanted to think about that ever again, the image of Emily with a blade causing your stomach to churn. “You saved his life.”

“Saving a life doesn’t justify taking another,” you said.

“I don’t think we have to worry about you, Y/N. Or Jack,” said Dean. He wrapped his hand around yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t think nature had much to do with your family being the way it is, Y/N. Bad made more bad is all. But your dad, your real dad, he was a pretty good guy from what everyone says. Look at you. You’re the proof.”

“Does Jack know he’s my brother?” you asked, Cas shaking his head. “You want to keep it quiet.”

“Nick and Derek are gone. The only threat I can see is Emily and she’s locked away. I think when you’re ready for it, we should all sit down and explain it to him. He’s always felt a little alone from what I can tell,” said Cas.

“Well you can tell him one of his sister’s is a badass to start with,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat. “You’re lucky I believe you or else I’d have to kick your ass.”

“Your feet are injured. You can’t kick anything,” said Cas.

“Dude, it’s an expression,” said Dean, rolling his eyes.

“So you’re my uncle,” you said with a smile, Cas nodding.

“I think I’m your half uncle but yes, we do share some blood,” said Cas.

“Maybe this wasn’t so awful after all.”

 

**One Month Later**

“Hi Emily,” you said, sitting down on the couch across from her, Dean taking a seat beside you. She was nervous in her seat on the other side, looking over at her doctor who was watching from the side.

“We brought you a present,” said Dean, picking up a bag and sliding it over. Emily raised an eyebrow and slid a hand inside, plucking out a small stuffed bear. “Dr. Allen said you like animals.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to be scared of us,” you said, Emily practically clutching the bear to her chest.

“I know,” she said, the lie coming out so flat Dean chuckled. “I’m sorry.”

“You like puppies? My brother just got one,” said Dean, pulling out his phone, tapping a video and turning it around for her. You saw her smile, eyes on the screen as Dean squeezed your hand. He was just as nervous as her but he wasn’t going to let it show in front of her.

“It’s cute,” she said when the video finished.

“Maybe sometime we can bring him in for you to see if the doc says it’s okay,” said Dean, a smile on his face that made Emily sink back in her chair.

“Why are you here?” she asked, staring at him and then his feet. “I tried to kill you. I hurt you. I was going to do awful things to you. Y/N, you I…you’re here for payback, aren’t you?”

“Dean and I have talked about everything that happened, Emily. We talked to your doctor and some other people and we wanted to tell you that yes, you did some bad things. But we forgive you,” you said. Emily snorted, turning her body away. “It’s the truth.”

“Emily, the doctor said you went into survival mode at a young age because of your father. You did things to protect yourself. He says you’re actually very kind,” said Dean.

“I’m a psycho bitch that has done so much crap, I can’t even remember it all,” she said, playing with the patient band on her wrist. “I’m evil.”

“Maybe you were. Maybe you did some stuff to me that still scares me. You have a lot of things to work through and it’s going to take a long time, Emily. But I think if you try, you can get better,” said Dean.

“Why do you even care?” she asked.

“Y/N’s my girlfriend. My family. That makes you my family too, Emily,” said Dean.

“Is he for real?” she asked, finally bringing herself to look you in the eye.

“He’s a dork. But a sweet one. We want to help you if you’ll let us,” you said.

“Why would you ever want to help me?” she asked.

“That’s what the good guys do.”

 

**Two Months Later**

“Hey,” said Dean, holding up a letter, padding into the kitchen with a smile. “Emily wrote me a thank you letter for her birthday present. That was nice of her.”

“She wrote me one too,” you said, taping the one Dean had in his hand on the side of the fridge. “Thank you for being so good with her. I know it’s weird.”

“Well, once I stopped thinking of her as the spawn of satan and what she really is, a poor kid that was manipulated and coerced into becoming what she did in order to keep herself alive, it got harder to hate her. Plus she’s got your cute nose. I’m a sucker for a boopable nose,” said Dean, tapping the top of yours.

“Uh huh,” you said, leaning up to peck a kiss to the tip of his. “Remind me again why I have to wear a dress to dinner?”

“It’s a fancy place,” said Dean, your eyebrows raising. “I’m getting better at this boyfriend thing. Plus it’s your birthday. I figured why not splurge.”

“We both have work in the morning. You better not keep me out too late,” you said, Dean smirking as he rested his hands on your hips. “Dean…”

“I can break a rule every now and then,” he teased, putting a finger to your lips when you went to speak. “Just enjoy yourself tonight, sweetheart.”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “I’m going to shower and get dressed for your super secret birthday date.”

You really didn’t need to get cleaned up but if it gave Dean time to run around and set up for your surprise dinner you weren’t supposed to know about, you figured you’d let him have it.

When your skin was pruning, you stepped into the bathroom, wiping yourself off, a thin white line on your shoulder the only physical reminder of three months ago. Dean had a few more scars but his hair had grown back in quickly, hiding the one on his scalp. When he’d finally healed so that you could get to the intimate part of your relationship, you hadn’t realized you’d spend most of that time just learning his body, talking over the marks left behind. His most badass one he joked was the one on his shin where he tripped up some steps once.

“Hey,” you said, exiting the bathroom after putting on a little bit of makeup, not that Dean cared one way or the other. Dean was in one of his work suits, a nice clean white shirt on, tie loose around his neck. You dropped your towel and slipped into some underwear, Dean’s mouth watering even if you were getting dressed. You stepped into your dress, pulling up the zipper until Dean moved in, zipping it the rest of the way. “Ready to go?”

“One more thing,” said Dean, fishing his hand in his pocket, pulling out a thin black piece of fabric. “It’s a blindfold. You don’t have to though if you think it’ll scare you.”

“I’m okay,” you said, stepping over, Dean giving you a gentle smile before your vision cut off, soft fabric resting against your skin as he tied the ends together. You took a deep breath, a quiet moment of panic rushing through you until it simmered away, Dean holding your hands patiently. “I’m okay.”

“Nothing’s going to get you. We don’t have to go far either,” he said. “Just down the hall.”

“Okay,” you said, Dean letting go of you, walking around to your backside, his hands on top of your shoulders. He gave you a tiny nudge forward, one hand leaving you as it opened the bedroom door, walking you barefoot down the hall until you were stood about where your kitchen and living room should have been.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he said, untying the blindfold, an encore of people yelling surprise at you, your house somehow transformed into a party in the half hour you were in the shower.

“How…you threw me a surprise party?” you asked, turning your head back at Dean. “I’ve never had one before.”

“It’s about time then,” said Dean. “Like I said, just have fun tonight.”

 

“I’m guessing you three are crashing here tonight?” asked Dean, Sam, Cas and Jack hazily looking up from the couch. “That’s a yes.”

“Thanks for the party guys,” you said, Jack hopping up from his seat. “Somebody’s grabbing dibs on the guestroom old timers.”

“Hey,” said Sam, groggily standing up. “Kid on the couch.”

“It’s my sister’s house,” said Jack with a smirk.

“It’s my brother’s house,” said Sam, throwing one back.

“Cas gets it,” you and Dean said, both guys dropping their jaws, Dean giving you a high five. “Oh, I love being an older sibling.”

“It has its perks,” you said, Jack rolling his eyes but unable to keep the smile from creeping on his face. “Night guys.”

You and Dean wandered down the hall to your room, plopping down on the bed, both of you letting out a sigh.

“Want to skip work tomorrow?” you asked, Dean chuckling.

“I almost forgot your other present. I called us both in sick already,” said Dean.

“The chief was just here,” you said.

“And I was very sick,” said Dean with mischievous smile.

“Bad boy,” you said, tucking yourself up against his side. “You know what I do to bad boys.”

“You’ll just have to make me good then,” he said, licking his lips. “You got all day tomorrow to try.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” you teased, kissing him fast before you rolled out of bed, changing into pajamas and climbing back under the covers with him. “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asked, resting his head on your pillow, keeping you close tonight.

“Why didn’t you arrest me at the diner? When you thought I was the woman in the picture?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to put some poor woman through something awful like that if I was wrong. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized it had to be you. Until you proved me wrong of course,” he said, trailing his finger along your hip, grazing over the scar from your appendix surgery. “I’m so glad I was wrong.”

He turned away to yawn, snuggling his head close to yours when he finished, throwing his arm over your waist, shutting his eyes with a large exhale.

“Love you,” you said, a smile crossing his lips.

“Love you back, sweetheart.”


End file.
